


Dulce et Decorum Est

by Superbanana



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: AU modern setting with a twist, Angst, Eventual delia/pats, F/F, Multiple chapters, Romance, Slow Burn, Soldier nursing, WW3, occasional horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2018-10-20 02:20:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 163,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10652928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Superbanana/pseuds/Superbanana
Summary: When World War Three is declared the shock waves reverberate across the nation at large.In sleepy Pembrokeshire nurse Busby is even more surprised than her colleagues to find that she has volunteered for the army medical core. The training might just be enough to fight the ghosts shes been hanging onto. Unless, of course, the ghost in question enlists as well.The whole gang in a different setting. Give it a go I dare you!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The prelude...

It seemed that a kind of spell had fallen over the vast Islands of Great Britain. All along the country from the long swathes of rugged greenary in Yorkshire to the sighing tides of Brighton and Cornwall, to the usually bustling metropolises of the great cities; London, Edinburgh, Manchester, Cardiff, Liverpool there was a long, drawn out pause in daily life. The arteries of the countries roads slowing; as though the heart of it was stuttering and missing beats.

Shops closed early, the doors barred and the shutters drawn. In schools the usually rambunctious children were pulled away from their sums and lines to instead be herded from their bright classrooms by harrassed looking teachers into various halls to sit, cross legged in neat rows, to watch the televisions rolling into place before them as anxious head teachers told them, ashen faced, that they should all listen carefully. 

In pubs across the land pints of all descriptions and games were abandoned; pool cues left to roll unheeded against grimy walls or the plush felt of the green tables. Darts were discrarded on the sticky sideboards. Men of all ages, races and creeds stood together in groups, grave faced and serious, all silent and all gazing at the TV bolted to the walls.

In homes of all shapes and sizes mothers stood at doorways or in the middle of floors. Some still held appliances in their hands; hoovers, phones, mops all of which seemed to be forgotten. Children too young to understand what was happening around them were shooshed loudly even as the voice on the television spoke. 

In building sites, offices, bus stops and streets far and wide men and women huddled together, their usual activities curtailed for this momentous event, bodies leaning ever closer, uncaring of the fact that the people around them were strangers. All of them staring transfixed at a screen on a mobile phone or cocking a nervous ear to a crackling radio.

Every breath was held. Waiting. Every eye was trained on one solitary figure standing behind a dark mahogany podium. 

A woman, with grey hair pinned back tightly, the pale pallour of her skin not completely hidden by her doubtlessly expensive make-up. The prime minister of Great Britain looked tired and frazzled, her face suddenly seeming older than it had done only days before. In her hands she held a single sheet of white paper that curled faintly at the edge, as though it had been passed to her hurriedly, by a speech writer who had been given thirty minutes to write a peice of history. Her back was very straight as she stared down the barrel of the camera lens, looking out at every man, woman and child in the country her thin mouth seeming to shrivel further as she waited for her cue to begin her speech. After several more moments as the sound technician completed his checks she took a final steadying deep breath. With a stiffening resolve burning behind her cold grey eyes she addressed the waiting nation. 

"People of Great Britain, my fellow countrymen and women. 

As many of you may be aware on the 14th June Russian tanks proceeded to illegally invade the peaceful country of Moldova. As a member of the United Nations, the European Union and as a long standing friend and ally to the country of Moldova our foreign secretary has worked tirelessly to broker a treaty and set out sanctions during diplomatic meetings with the Russian and Moldovan ambassadors in the hopes to rectify this clear breakage of both the Geneva convention and the rules and governances of the UN in the proceeding weeks since this event. After many failed diplomatic meetings Russian soldiers were then reported and later verified to have scouted and overcome territories on July 31st in the Ukraine and Hungarian border. At 12pm yesterday afternoon the British government along with the German, French and Polish governments issued Russia with a final warning to remove their troops from this area. 

It is with great regret that I must now inform you all that these warnings have not been heeded and Russia has made no moves to reduce its military presense in these regions. From the time of this announcement, it is my duty as head of government to inform you all that Great Britain is now in a state of war with Russia and all of its allies. 

Following this announcement the ministry of defence and the newly formed war committee will be setting up volunteering stations at all large geographical areas in the country. The balance of the world rests upon a knife edge and it is the civic duty of all those who can to take up the call to arms to do so proudly. Throughout history this small but great nation has led the charge against dictatorships and the unsanctionable cowardice shown by its opposing foes. Never before have we failed in our task to inforce order where once there has been chaos. It is my stalwart belief that we will be no less successful on this occasion. Though the ensuing weeks and months may be trying it will never be said that the spirit of this nation was broken by these events. Together, we shall fight on for what is just, for what is right, for what it means to be British!" 

Behind the woman, from the suddenly thrumming discs of many speakers, the first few bars of the national anthem began to wend its way into the silent air. 

All around the country the Britsh people stared at one another as the phrase in everyones mind hissed through space like fireworks on a balmy autumnal evening, their shared message bursting across the minds eye at the same time. Explosive and incendiary. Some spoke the words fearfully, gazes flicking towards children or lovers, others breathed it victoriously, their eyes glazing over in realised glee. Most spoke it disbelievingly though, mouths slack, spines suddenly tingling with fear and unrealised trepidation. 

"We are at war..."


	2. What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another post. What can I say, I'm excited!

"We are at war."

The phrase was everywhere Delia went that day. It was muttered between the beds of patients on the ward, whispered by nurses in the office, spluttered tearfully from behind locked cubicles in the toilets, written in large red capital letters that rolled along banners beneath serious looking news reporters on the television. It was pasted on the faces of everyone she passed in the hospital like a grim sort of communicable disease that was spreading through the population around her like wild fire. If fear had a face then it was the face worn by everyone Delia had seen a hundred times over this day.

They were at war.

Muzzily, Delia remembers back to her school days; history in room H6 with Mr Harrison. Delia had never much been interested in history, had found the endless dates and names confusing, had always been more preoccupied with a girl called Melanie Griffiths who had been seated in the row in front of her who had long blonde hair that hung in a curtain to her waist. Later on, when puberty had really begun to kick in, Delia had given up all pretence of listening when the blonde had begun wearing short skirts and brightly coloured bras that showed through daringly under her white school blouse. She'd had a tattoo under there too, Delia remembers fondly, of a swallow on her naval that her mother had grounded her for months over. 

Delia sighed to herself regretfully, adolescent yearnings aside, she now wished she'd spent a bit more energy on the lessons themselves. The school had covered both world wars in the curriculum and if Delia had thought to spare a moment for the classes contents she might have more knowledge to base her assumptions on the upcoming events now. They were at war. Where should one even begin to start with that fact.

It seemed strange now, as she rushed up and down the long corridors dragging heavy beds, files and heavy medication bags, catching glimpses of news reels as she passed open doors, to think that yesterdays biggest worries had been a man with an extreme case of appendicitis vomiting blood onto her new Clark shoes and the decision of whether to have a chippy or a Chinese for dinner. She'd watched the television broadcast last night, along with everyone else it seemed and like everyone else had felt the ground beneath her tremble at the prime minister's bold statement. The winds of change blowing around her and making her shiver as she tugged the fleecy blanket her mother had given her last Christmas more tightly around herself. 

The woman had said they were at war, had told them of the expectation to volunteer. The words sounding foreign and strange in the glowing lights of 2017. The echoes of the past swirling at the edges of thought, the painful reminder that this had all happened so many times before. That had been less than 24 hours ago and while the urgency of the matter was not confused or misunderstood it still did not seem possible that the effects would be felt in the quiet stretch of land Delia lived in. Things moved slowly in the sleepy world of Pembrokeshire, it always had. It had come as a shock therefore this morning when Delia's usual strolling commute to South Pembrokeshire Hospital through the bustling hurly burly of morning dock workers, unloading and loading vast pallets and boxes down shoots and onto electric dum-weights onto and off ships had been interrupted by the strange site of official looking men and women in pressed and polished uniforms setting up several rows of desks under fabric tents while less polished and pressed men and women struggled with much larger tents set behind the desks. The jarring sound of hammers on metal pins seemed to shake the scene and subdue the more general chatter of a normal Tuesday morning. No one was whistling, no cat calls followed Delia as she approached, the air seemed frozen as everyone attempted to ignore the interruptions to normality.

As Delia had passed closer by the strangers she observed the neat sign as it was drawn out from an official looking leather case. The sign had read "official volunteer recruitment point". Even as she walked away, heart pounding, she noted a few men; some young enough to still be at school striding past her towards the tent, faces resolute, their intentions far too clear.

The day, as days went, had been a long and dull one. There was always paperwork, war or no war. Many of the staff had called in sick, no doubt anxious to be with family or loved ones at such a time, leaving the wards dangerously under manned. Delia, whose parents lived half an hour away, had spoken to them both for an awkward and stilted fifteen minutes before managing to end the call on the pretence of needing to finish her break. Lacey finished work at five and had text Delia before she'd set out that morning to suggest dinner and an evening together at Delia's place. Delia had agreed, more out of the nagging sense of guilt for not suggesting it herself than any real desire to see her sometimes girlfriend. 

The wards themselves had been ominously quiet, even more so than usual, the patients apparent preoccupation with the news offering distraction to their poor health better than a dose of morphine. The usually cheerful aura of the nursing station had been turned solemn. Delia's perky attitude had fallen flat under the weight of tension in the air. The atmosphere seemed to leave everyone exhausted and snappish. And all the time the large black, standard issue clock bolted to the wall tick tocked the seconds away.

When Delia had first come home from London and taken up her post at South Pembrokeshire the immediate thing she had been struck by was how slow the pace of the hospital had seemed to her where once it might have felt overwhelming. Even in emergencies, which occurred often enough on male surgical, she could not recall her time at the London ever dragging in the same way, even on the rare quiet days. In London it had not been uncommon for her to fall, fully clothed, passed out onto her bed after a shift out of sheer exhaustion. Here and now, it was all she could do most days to prevent herself from falling asleep from the lack of available stimulus. There were no gun-shot wounds in Pembrokeshire, no fatal stabbings, no gang crimes, no bubbling sense of threat and stress seeping in from the crowded city streets. Her mother, in the special sanctimonious tone of voice reserved only for Delia, called it peaceful and raved about it being "Gods land". It could be true Delia had to admit, recalling the glorious summers of her youth playing in wide fields, the bristly, sleeping earth waiting expectantly to be turned by the big tractors for planting. Picnics by the beach as the wide mouth of the sea seemed to wink at her as it crashed and turned in the gentle breeze. It had been small and safe and sweet. That had been then though, twenty something years later the scale of the place chewed at her; the bracing clean air was too clean, the wide open sky line was too wide, too open. Delia still felt the hunger in her for skylines crowded with busy offices, the smell of ever present smog clogging in her chest. The never ending queues of people shuffling hither and thither around her. The excitement of being lost in the crowds where no face was exactly alike. Where no one remembered her playing in their brothers paddling pool at four years old without her pants on.

Pembrokeshire was still beautiful, still quiet, still safe but Delia had been aware for some time of a feeling building inside of her. A restless energy shifting at the base of her feet calling for movement and change even as her heart resisted it, still a little fractured from her last jaunt into the wider world. Her brain had no such qualms though and would sneak thoughts through her inner ears at all hours until she was forced to admit the words she would deny vehemently if ever asked. The unshakeable truth was that she was bored, that she found her existence boring, that this was not the life she had dreamt of at twenty one. Even on a day like this, where everyone was confounded by the tide of apprehension crashing over them, Delia could not escape the feeling of time passing her by as she folded linen, changed dressings, emptied bed pans and consoled tearful relatives. The feeling of discontent scraping at her like an iron file on an exposed nerve. 

It had been six years since she'd been in London. Six whole years of peace and quiet, of living life in the slow lane. When she'd first returned, pitching up on her mam's doorstep unexpectedly with bags in hand, forcing herself not to fall apart in front of everyone as she'd asked to stay there until she could sort out somewhere more permanent to live. She'd been glad of the quiet then. Once she'd gone back to nursing a few months after that she'd felt a swell of masochistic pride at her self imposed exile to her old haunts. Away from the ghosts of London and all the pain and wonder those feelings contained. For the longest time she had assured herself she had done the right thing by leaving, had insisted to herself of that fact firmly whenever the pangs of regret hit her. Pembrokeshire had been home and it had welcomed her back with welcome arms and if they had been the wrong arms, the wrong kind of welcome to the one she'd been desperate for, they had been then only arms that had reached out. That was all that could be said really.

Now though, things had changed overnight. "We are at war". The words kept repeating over and over at the least convenient moments that day. With numbers short she'd actually been required to think as she planned out her tasks. It was near the end of the shift, as she wheeled the drugs trolley from bed to bed, dispatching the med's that were written onto the charts in nearly illegible writing by one doctor or another to waiting patients that the strangeness of the day finally turned to horror.

Mr Azim, bed 7, in for a re-infection of an old amputation wound. The man was dusky skinned with a fussy moustache perched above his pursed lips. He was drifting into his nineties and had garnered a bad reputation with most of the nurses for his acerbic comments during ward rounds. He turned his face around to eye Delia as she wheeled the trolley towards him purposely, his expression sullen.

"Oh, it's you. The fat one said she'd be dishing out the pills tonight." Delia forced herself to smile her special smile reserved for difficult patients and reached in front of her to flick through the cards for the man's chart.

"Sorry to disappoint Mr Azim, Nurse Farrow has been called away on an urgent matter to another ward so I'm afraid I'll have to do for now. Now;' scanning down the long list she began to pull at the boxes and tipping tablets into a plastic cup, 'Dr Natarajan has changed your prescription slightly, your penicillin dose has been taken up another 50mg to help fight that nasty infection. I see that your morphine has also been put up although it looks like you've not had it today according to your chart. Am I to take it the pains easing somewhat sir?" The meds, now fully assembled, were proffered and taken as Delia reached to withdraw a cup of water to wash them down with. The man scowled at his prescription, his face pale with the ever constant sheen of sweat fogging his forehead and dampening his thick grey hair.

"I won't have any of that Morphine rubbish. I may not be as young as I once was but I don't need drugging!' he snorted thickly through the wide rim of his nose to dislodge a lump of phlegm that had been roughening his voice. 'Painkillers' the word was heavy with sarcasm, 'never had any of this nonsense in my day, no one wasted my time asking about my feelings even when they chopped the damn leg off". Smiling nastily he tapped the bedclothes at the lump in the bed that was all that remained of his lost limb apparently in an effort to drive his point home. He sighed heavily as he turned his attention back up, fixing Delia with a sly flicker in his dark brown eyes, "Still, I suppose you'll learn that for yourself now... been saying it for years there'd be another war. There's always some crisis or another but we've somehow managed to stop at all out slaughter, now though' his gaze flitted back to the small radio on his bedside table, 'now I guess we're all about to remember what it was like". Picking out the morphine the man threw the remaining tablets into his mouth, slapping his lips together as he gulped them down dry, his expression fierce, as though expecting Delia to dare disagree with him or continue the conversation.

It was just as Delia bent to pick up the discarded meds that she felt the air in the room change. A susurration of whispers growing louder as it spread down the room. The slow cranking of radio dials to turn up the sound, the faint groan as the hospital televisions were swung closer to beds. Turning her head to glance up the ward she noticed the sudden stillness settling on the patients as they all concentrated on the same voice floating through various devices. 

Mr Solomon in the next bed looked up from his phone, his face stricken as he leaned towards his wife sat beside him, "there's been an attack in London, a hospitals been bombed'. The phrase seemed to reverberate off the stark white walls as Delia stood there, hands suddenly gripping the metal rim of the trolley handle, staring wide eyed at the nearest television screen. People twitched in beds, pain forgotten as they all listened to the words pouring out from a shocked reporters mouth.

"-Breaking news is just emerging that a Russian bomber has opened fire and destroyed much of the Royal London Hospital. We're currently unable to offer any concrete facts but we will do our best to report on the events as they unfold.' The man broke off suddenly to touch a hidden microphone attached to his ear. "I've just been informed that our reporter Christina Becker is near the scene and can report on the devastating circumstances unfolding there. Christina? Can you hear me?" There was a muffled crackling as the woman was patched into the main sound system, her voice hoarse as though she had only just stopped running.

"Yes John I can hear you. I'm currently standing on Whitechapel road behind a police blockade that's in the process of being set up around the perimeter of the London. In front of me is a state of destruction and devastation not witnessed since the days of the Blitz. I was across the road when the plane flew by and can confirm that there was a direct hit to the main body of the building.' In the background there was the wail of sirens growing and fading, the shouts of men and women and an ever present thudding of feet as people fled the scene around the breathless reporter. 'There was a huge cloud of dust at the impact that covered myself and those around me and I need to take this opportunity to urge anyone in the nearby area to remain indoors at this time as the streets are yet to be pronounced or appear safe. It seems clear that this attack was not anticipated and the death toll is likely to be high". There was a shuffling and a deep, male voice interrupted the speaker angrily, 

"Madam, you cannot be here, we are in the process of blocking off all entering roads and this area needs to be clear for emergency vehicles. You need to follow my colleague to a place of safety now."

"I can't do that officer, I'm reporting this incident for the BBC news, I'm currently live to the nation and-" The deep voice interrupted once more, becoming forceful as the sound of tussling traveled through the phones speakers.

"Lady, I don't care if you're the queen herself this area is not safe and you need to follow my colleague along with everyone else. Now.." The reporter shrieked as though she was being pushed and the phone call cut off suddenly. The camera focused back in onto the main reporter sat stupidly behind his shiny glass desk. There was a pause as it became clear the studio had lost contact with Christina. The man cleared his voice.

"Ahh, It appears that we've had a few technical difficulties there, I'm sure Christina will be in contact once more very soon though.' The man cleared his throat importantly before continuing; 'During that conversation video footage of the bombing has been released by members of the public on their social media and can be shown exclusively to our viewers now. Please note that the following footage contains images some viewers may find distressing". The screen cut away from the glossy studio and was replaced by a grainy video obviously taken on a cheap mobile phone. The smiling face of a young Chinese woman knelt in front of a road sign, her fingers extended in a V shape as she flashed her teeth to the camera. Behind the lens there were a few mumbled words in Chinese from the video taker. The woman laughed, head thrown back and glossy black hair shining beneath a mid day sun. The moment was broken by a soft whistling noise that seemed to grow out of nowhere around them. The woman stood suddenly, her face turned to the sky, her finger pointing urgently towards something she had apparently just noticed. The camera jerked around as a fuzzy grey object flew from behind a patch of clouds towards the hospital roof. A woman was screaming far off and then the camera was turned back to the road ahead. A man was shouting incomprehensively and a pale hand was clutching at the woman's as the pair began half running, half dragging with one another down the bustling Street. The sounds of their breathing filled the silence while the whistling grew louder and louder. Then cut off abruptly. There was a drawn out pause and then huge boom, the camera shook madly as though the road beneath the video man's feet had trembled. There were screams, high pitched with apparent terror, just as the camera shut out. The screen turning blank.

Delia felt the walls of her throat close in against themselves as her breathing grew jagged. Not the London, not the London. Anything but that. Images flickered behind her eyes as faces jumped out at her through the tides of memory. Colleagues, friends. A lover from long ago. The feeling of hands clutching at her like they were going to burrow beneath her heated skin and the smell of bleach and cigarettes on her pillow. Not the London. Not the London. She had been unaware of the buzzing in her ears until the spell was broken by the catarrh filled cackle beside her. Horrified, she turned her face to the purplish cheeked Mr Azim as he choked on his laughter, tears of mirth and something darker sparkling in his wizened, hateful face. "Well it's official now,' he croaked to the staring, silent room at large, 'We are at war my friends'.


	3. -Only the monstrous anger of the guns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soo here's chapter three, hopefully the plots beginning to show through a little more. There will be a little more angst after this and then, who knows, I might lighten up slightly. Then again they don't call me Super Drama Rebecca Banana for nothing!
> 
> Anyhoo, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.
> 
> SB

"Hello. You have reached the answer phone of Phyllis Crane. I cannot take your call at the present moment in time but if you leave your name and number with a short message I shall endeavour to phone you back at my earliest convenience". The familiar, bracing voice broke off as the dial tone beeped to indicate the line had begun recording. Delia felt her slick palms quiver as the sharp weight of the phone pressed against her cheek. No answer. It had been the same the last five times she'd tried. The Northern voice sending shockwaves of hope flooding through her body on every attempt before realisation dawned and each time Delia's responding message had become longer and longer, as though she thought the length of it could bridge the distance between here and there. Hearing Phyllis's voice, the dial tones endless, doleful ring made the trepidation ratchet up a few more notches.

"Phyllis, it's Delia calling, again. Just feeling a bit frantic my end I'm afraid. I know you're probably busy but if you could just send a text or something my way to let me know you and everyone else are...' she felt her throat closing up again, the words 'not dead' hovering in her mouth unspoken as she settled instead for a more positive sounding; 'unharmed. I'd appreciate it greatly. Anyway, I'll keep phoning, just in case. Soo... bye bye again, I'll sign off here". Dazedly, she pulled the phone away to swipe her trembling thumb over the big red circle hovering in the center of the glinting screen to end the unanswered call. 

It had been less than half an hour since the news had broken. She barely remembered pulling the trolley to the nurses station, was unable to recall carelessly parking it in the small space retained for the bulky thing at an awkward angle and striding to the cramped back office that housed two computers, a few filing cabinets near bursting with documents and a stack of lockers. As soon as she'd broken into her own locker, practically peeling the flimsy metal backwards in her haste and torn her phone from the snug canvas pocket of her messenger bag she'd felt herself being pulled away from the still laughing Mr Azim, the curious eyes of the others. 

She felt as though she'd been placed under a trance, the muffled noise of her colleague calling her name from somewhere seemingly far far away was nothing more than meaningless background interference to her. The double doors swung behind her retreating form, seeming to blow a breeze along the corridor, spurring her forward. It was hard to focus when the curious buzzing in her ears still hounded her, blinded her to all else. Only movement could help her now, movement and action had always helped to stem unhelpful feelings in the past. It would have to suffice now, as a hot mixture of pain, disbelief and fear threatened to crush her. She let the feeling of her muscles bunching underneath her starched uniform become her anchor as she practically jogged along the empty corridors. She zoomed past the open doors she'd peeked through earlier, past the sad gift shop with its front offering pajamas and tooth brushes to the hospitals loneliest inhabitants, past the nearly empty cafeteria with its steaming serving platters and the always present smell of yesterdays gravy to reach the gloriously fresh air of the car park.

But even that was not enough. Mere footsteps were not enough. She needed to run, to somehow escape the growing dread building inside her so fast she was surprised not to be levitating a foot from the ground. Frantically, she paced up and down the gravelled path set aside and back from the main front doors. Her passage carved a groove into the neat stones there which yeilded beneath the weight of her body. Her mind spun and twisted as she stared at her phone book, at the list of names reflected up to her. 

Decisions, decisions. The thought of 'what next ' flashed behind her minds ear as she bullied her fevered thoughts into some sort of sense. Wild images were stuttering across her brain. The London destroyed, people and building and equipment wrapped together in a dusty, terminal embrace. Her feet propelled her further and faster as she quickly dialed Phyllis's number. And again. And again.

They didn't speak all that often these days. Delia and Phyllis. Their hectic schedules making any sort of routine near impossible to keep to but they still managed the odd conversation at least once a month. They exchanged Christmas and birthday cards every year without fail, the only person aside from her parents she maintained the rather old fashioned tradition with. Last Christmas had been an especially bright one with the front showing a picture of a setting sun hanging over a Spanish beach. A bearded grossly fat man, evidently father Christmas, wearing a sombrero and a pained expression caused by the large, humorous red sunburns on his skin winced up at her above the caption, "Santa del sol". Phyllis had enclosed inside the usual letter and a picture of herself in front of her beloved classic car. The others had been scattered about her, Trixie and Barbara wedged either side of Patsy, both making stupid faces at the camera and sneaking their hands up to make bunny ears above their heads while Patsy stared dead ahead an amused tinge to the set of her lips. The scribbled note in Phyllis's handwriting on the back had read simply, "lots of love from the old gang!" 

The old gang. Delia had kept the photo against her better judgement and had thus far managed to sit staring at it only twice since its delivery. Both occurrences having been fueled mainly by too much cider and moody music, Celine Dion at four in the morning had never been known as a harbinger of good times. God knows why she still did it several years passed her twenties. 

Delia liked Phyllis, had always enjoyed the womans make do and mend nature, a testimont to a by gone era. She had been... Was. Was the only, tenuous link Delia allowed herself from the past. The only link to London and everyone there. Phyllis never pried either, another reason Delia had maintained contact, she never asked too many questions and refrained from passing judgement while still offering tit bits of news from the capital. Together, they'd snorted at Trixies jaunt into the world of fitness classes, had sighed in exasperation at Barbara's long standing and shy courtship with a vicar from the suburbs.

Phyllis never actively spoke about the final member of the group, understanding in a way Delia could not explain that the subject was better left alone, settling for just mentioning occasionally that Patsy was well and continuing to flourish in the world of nursing. Delia was grateful for that too, grateful to hear only faint news but glad not to know anymore. What the mind didn't know the heart couldn't grieve for she'd reasoned. She didn't think she could have handled hearing how Pats had moved on without her, even now, after so much time had passed. 

But Phyllis was not taking pictures in front of her car. 'The gang', it was certain, would not to be laughing together at this moment. Phyllis was unreachable, possibly never to be heard from again and the others... She felt the electric doors behind her sigh as they opened but did not look around. Her mind too full of imagined horrors, her feet still burning holes in the floor where they touched it. Her hands were shaking, the useless block of glass and metal that was her phone weighing heavy at her side.

She was not aware of anyone approaching her, stood away from the speculative gazes of hospital visitors as she was, but still, someone came. A soft hand reached out bracingly to cup her shoulder from behind. At the sudden, unexpected contact Delia whirled around, edgy and tense, her face shadowed as she met the patient visage of Senior Sister Julienne. A woman comfortably into her fifties but still attractive for it. Before now, Delia had been struck by the quiet sense of dignity always emanating from the petite form, had enjoyed the feeling of calm that followed her seemingly wherever she stepped. That was then though. Now, she felt herself bristle at the soothing face, wanted to snap at the woman, to cause that restful facade to fall, to crack for daring to interrupt her moment of despair.

Grudgingly, Delia allowed her feet to cease their pacing, watching the sister wordlessly. For a stretch of time no words were said, just the unspoken communication passing between junior and senior. The stillness chafed at Delia's very soul, the pointless futility of the interaction. Everyone was dead, they had to be. The London had been bombed...She felt the grief dig in, bone deep and sharp as a knife as she stood there, vibrating with barely controlled emotion in the grey evening air, waiting for the expected admonition from the older nurse for abandoning her post. 

The expected criticism did not land however, instead the sister sighed sadly and offered a smile that was too understanding, too kind. Delia felt her eyes sting in response and coughed loudly, willing herself not to break down. 

"Nurse Busby, I've just come from your ward where Nurse Farrow has informed me of events." The hand still hovering between them wavered for a second, as though it had been about to be extended once more to grasp Delia firmly but the older woman seemed to think better of it. Her voice was a caress that stung like anticeptic on an open wound. "I understand that you came to us after a long career in London. That you lived there for a number of years...' Julienne paused as if waiting for an answer, Delia obligingly bobbed her head once in response. 'On behalf of the hospital and myself I want to extend the deepest sympathy for your situation and for the inevitable losses you may be facing now. If there is anything that we can do to help you; phone calls to the London, to the emergency services attending the crisis I promise you that it will be done in the strictest of confidences". 

This time the hand really did reach out, the thin fingers grasping Delia's arm firmly. Delia looked down at her feet, ashamed at her first response to the woman. There were cigarettes littering the floor she noted listlessly, a hint of red lip stick had stained the butts of a few a deep cherry red and they caught her eye as it ran over the pile. Delia felt the tears trickle weakly down her cold cheeks at the sight. Images of Trixies ash tray, of lipsticks all the colours of the rainbow invaded her mind.

"Thank you' the words were hoarse but the feeling behind them strong, 'thats very kind of you to offer sister. I doubt you'd get through to the London, if it's still standing now though, I doubt there's anyone to answer the telephone... at the moment". The tears felt strange and bitter as they dripped off the curve of her chin, the memories of posh, brassy accents reverberated around her scull. 

She felt taken aback as wiry arms encircled her, pulling her head down to rest on a strong set of shoulders. The wave crested. Time passed. Feelings climaxed and raged and faded gently like a mucky theif leaving thumb prints on all the doors.

Eventually reason returned and the grip of Sister Juliennes arms retreated far enough for Delia to gulp in breaths of oxygen and dab at puffy eyes. 

"Have you got anyone you can sit with tonight? I wouldn't want you left alone at a time like this" enquired the woman, her voice still somehow calm and patient while Delia felt nothing short of dazed and exhausted.

Delia rubbed at her face roughly as she nodded, only half focused on the question. "Yes, I've got a... a friend staying round mine tonight. So much happened yesterday we thought... ' her voice tailed off, rendered useless once again. The sister nodded amiably and reached around to pull out Delia's bag that had thus far been strapped over her shoulder, a fact unnoticed by Delia.

"In that case I insist that you go home at once, the hospital will manage without you until Friday. Use the time to make whatever calls you must. In the mean time I will think of you and your friends in my prayers." Delia felt herself nodding numbly as she stumbled, turning around, clearly dismissed. The path ahead stretching out before her like a muted threat.

It was only fifteen minutes later, as she neared the steps to the docks that she considered the womans parting words; "think of you and your friends in my prayers". She had not realised Julienne was the religious type, she seemed too kind, too understanding for that sort of calling and yet there was something about her that suited the notion she decided. Like the wholesome greeting card type nuns in stories.

The docks were still busy. Men shouted out to one another, the air thick with peculiar whistles that all had meaning if one cared to learn them; a little to the left, a big haul, four man job. Secret languages she had delighted in deciphering when she was very small clutching her fathers reassuringly large hand.

Up ahead Delia noted that a queue had formed at the place where the desks had been set up hours earlier. Rows of men and one or two women waited impatiently, shuffling their feet as they chatted to one another. Delia paused to watch the procedure, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd. The queue seemed to be moving along quickly enough, each person attending a brief verbal exchange before stepping into the wider tent beyond.

A creeping fancy began its inevitable passage up her hind brain as she stood at the damp edge of the dock yard. It felt as though she had planned it somehow, as though this moment had always meant to be. The memory of the bomb, falling to earth, the loud rumble of the explosion rattled about her. Shook her so that she stretched a little straighter, a curious future sketching out in her mind while she stood; pondering. 

Delia joined the queue.

She was kept waiting only ten minutes, the press of bodies around her hemming her in, fixing her to the spot and stopping any change of heart setting in. And then the waiting was ended almost as quick as it had begun, quicker than anticipated, a man was ushering her over to an officious looking corporal. The soldier wore his double stripes well and they gleamed on his khaki chest, a beret tilted on his closely cropped neat hair at an angle so precise it must be part of the uniform. The man looked up at Delia, his eyes raking her figure, taking in the dark navy of her uniform quickly and efficiently.

"Name?"  
"Busby, Delia Busby."  
"Occupation? Nurse or similar I take it unless you're on your way to a strictly uniform fancy dress party miss Busby". The mans mouth twitched, clearly amused by his joke.  
"Er, yes, I'm a nurse at South Pembrokeshire Hospital, just got off shift."  
"I see, and you thought you'd enlist straight after work eh, excellent stuff, a conscientious patriot, just the sort of personality the ministry of defence is looking for.' He scribbled hurriedly on a printed sheet for a moment before ripping it away from the pad with a lush tearing sound and passed it to Delia brusquely.

"You'll need to get checked out by the medic in the tent before he signs you off I'm afraid, procedure see. When he does he'll sign the bottom and you'll need to sign aswell. As long as the doctor gives the all clear you will be expected to present yourself at Pembrokeshire bus station this Saturday at six hundred hours. You are encouraged to bring a bag with smart attire, no jeans allowed in formal settings on the camp. I advise at least two pairs of chinos, navy or black for preference and a blazer with no more than three buttons at the front. All other clothing will be provided at the camp you will be assigned to for your twelve week basic training course. Are there any questions?" The man's final question had been half hearted, his attention already focusing on the next recruit. Delia's head shake passed unnoticed as she rounded the table and slipped between the heavy waxed flaps of the tent.

Here, a number of benches had been pulled into tidy rows where a large portion of people were seated. Some appeared excited, practically buzzing with barely controlled enthusiasm. Others looked grey as they sat, their own paper clutched in their hands tightly. Delia drifted to the back and eventually wedged herself into an available space between a pimpled youth and a tired, bespectacled man in his thirties. Neither man spoke to her but the boy did offer a queasy sort of smile in greeting as she settled herself down on the low sprung bench.

Over the next half hour a number of army types wearing white coats strolled through the back opening clutching clip boards and reciting names. Delia watched as Skeggs Keith, Cravit John, Sykes Bill and a few more she didn't catch the names of dawdle up the room. No one returned once they had been called. Delia felt the room empty and fill as the gentle tide of Pembrokeshires war hungry population entered and left through both tent openings. Her shoes were filthy she noted, eyes catching the greying sole, she'd only bought them a few weeks ago with her mam on their bi monthly shopping trip to town. She jumped when a stout looking woman with salt and pepper hair called "Busby, Delia" loudly and unfolded stiffly from her seat, feeling those around her watching with interest as she followed in the older womans wake.

Behind the flap was a makeshift corridor, cubicles with thin, beige curtain rails lined both sides. On entering a cubicle set to the right side Delia took the seat indicated to her that was clearly purchased for its ability to be stacked neatly rather than its comfortability factors. The woman strode past her, a quick paced walk half way between a march and a strut and bent her head low to a desk, a pen flashing from an inside pocket as she tugged a stack of papers closer. The woman sighed as she scanned the sheet and then glanced up at Delia shrewdly. 

"Nurse?" It was a question, barked out in clipped posh tones. Delia nodded stupidly for a moment and then, feeling more was needed added,  
"Yes, at the local hospital - male surgical though I've worked stints in trauma as well". The woman nodded, a hint of appreciation colouring her movements now.  
"How long have you been qualified?"  
"Just over 8 years".  
"And you trained in wales?"  
"No...I trained in England". The woman seemed to sense her hesitation and looked up frowning.  
"Which hospital?" The woman's eyes were very blue, too blue, too much like P-  
"The London, I completed my training 08 and stayed on for two years in trauma and A&E". The pen was moving swiftly now scribbling down the facts but the womans expression still seemed taken aback,  
"The London? You're referring to the hospital that was attacked about an hour ago?"

Delia nodded solemnly praying not to keep the conversation on this subject, her chest felt tight like she'd just run a mile. The woman was staring at her with an uncomfortable sort of attentiveness, eyes boring into her face. Delia turned her attention back to her scuffed sensible shoes.  
"I see. Well, Busby I'm going to take you through a few fitness and health checks. Providing you pass this we can move onto orientation and further information". 

Delia allowed herself to settle into movement as she was pushed and pulled around the room, her limbs prodded and manipulated as though she was more an inanimate doll than a real person. The doctor took her height and weight, calculated her BMI with a satisfied nod. Then her blood pressure, pulse and cholesterol were checked before several vials of blood were filled and labelled neatly. The doctor then stood Delia in the centre of the space and requested her to bend her body; touching her toes, squatting for five minutes, to complete press ups and sit ups until told to stop with a barking order. Then came the request for star jumps, high kicks, running on the spot and lunges; each movement was timed and recorded meticulously by the stop watch built into the womans watch. After the exercises her blood pressure and pulse was taken once more to evidence her base line stats. The lights were dimmed and Delia was made to carry out a full eye test, her mouth sighing out endless renditions of letters; 'L, R, Q, V, N, N'. Once this had been completed Delia was handed a small binder of paper to fill in.

The doctor bustled about a treatment bed, rolling out sheets of paper over the wipe clean fabric as Delia hastily wrote out her details; name, d.o.b, mothers maiden name, fathers name, place of birth. addresses from the past three years, allergies, disabilities, current employer etc etc add infinitum. The task was comforting strangely, if tedious and time consuming. The old nursing addage of 'theres always paperwork' nudged her. After what seemed like hours later, her hand cramping, Delia signed her name at the bottom of the final page with a sigh. 

The doctor turned at the noise and indicated gruffly that Delia should take a seat at the edge of the bed. They trundled through a basic reflex test a swaddled hammer landing on her knees, her toes. Delia sat very still during a hearing test raising her hands at the sound of beeps pitched gradually higher and higher, she wheezed through a lung capacity test. The pen scratching down its mistresses findings filling the quiet room. The air seemed to snap as aging hands moved to slip on a pair of blue vinyl gloves noisily and ran a cold finger along Delias teeth, counting carefully, pressing down on a loose filling. 

Delia's body ached, the womans demands irascible, her endless poking leaving her sweaty and sore. Her knowledge of the medical world assured her that there were few checks left and she felt a stir of smugness as the gloves were peeled off and discarded into a waiting orange rubbish sack as they both took a seat back at the desk.

The doctor gently tapped her teeth with the nib of her pen, scanning the check sheet for a moment before leaning back composedly, apparently satisfied.

"You're a bit shorter than I'd like, never a good thing when a soldier stands a foot lower than his neighbour on parade, looks messy but other than that you appear fit and healthy.' She pursed her lips slightly and sighed, suddenly more human than she'd yet appeared, her eyes peering seriously over the desk at Delia.  
"Look, I know what its like to lose friends. Your old stomping ground gets demolished and you suddenly have an urge to enlist... Well, I won't waste either of our time on breath telling you not to do it if you're decided but I urge you to consider your actions. Go home, get some rest, sleep on it. Tomorrow you may feel differently."

Delia did not respond, she felt her jaw set in the stubborn line that usually heralded exasperated cries of, 'Cariad!' from her mother. The two women faced each other down, waiting for the other to look away. Delia felt the stirring stubborn streak blooming in her chest, determined not to be the first to blink. To her surprise she won this round, the doctor coughed unconvincingly and returned to her sheet, the voice become efficient and cold again.

"In that case, here are your papers. The bus leaves at 6 am sharp Saturday.The list of items you should bring are on the back and we will need a valid passport and driving licence, oh and a copy of your pin number. I'm assigning you to the medical core, God knows we'll need more nurses on the ground once the war starts swinging properly. Keep hold of your medical certificate and provide it to the staff seargant when asked at the camp".

"Which camp am I going to?" 

"Deepcut, Surrey. Very picturesque and from there, providing you pass out at the end of the twelve weeks, you'll be sent to Birmingham for field training and your perceptorship. A formality given your level of experience." Delia reached out and took the thick stack of documents, her palms slipping on the still drying ink. The doctor took her silence as a goodbye and returned her attention to the desk.

"You'll find the exit to the right and down the corridor, good luck Busby." 

Delia, for the second time that afternoon accepted the dismissal wordlessly and exited the volunteer station. Her thighs aching from one too many lunges.

Dusk had set in as she pushed through the heavy fabric, her hands bunched around the folio, heart racing. Far off men still whistled.

What on earth had she done?


	4. only the stuttering rifles rapid rattle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm, I'm not completely satisfied with the final part of this. Not sure if it doesn't seem a touch too rushed but in my defence Delia's drunk. She's not making good decisions and shes meant to be human, flaws included. Opinions would be greatly appreciated.
> 
> SB

The key scrabbled at the lock. Delia’s hand stabbing at the tiny slit in the metal with eyes screwed up in concentration, the mascara she'd carefully applied this morning now smudged and smoky around her lids making the iris's burn and her vision blur. 

The situation might have been funny had she not been standing on her own doorstep for the past twenty minutes. Her attempts hampered by double vision courtesy of at least five pints at the Kings Head coupled with a sudden inability to coordinate any joints movements into something smaller than a jerky sort of twitch. It was also a factor, although one she could do little to stop, that she kept doubling up as peals of laughter ran through her. Everything was so so funny; she was cold, a little damp and her face hurt but God she felt like a new woman. Admittedly, a new woman who couldn’t currently get into her own home. But still; new women probably didn’t need to get into their flats she reasoned. Not new women who were due to become soldiers in a few days time anyway. She bent over in fits of hysterical giggles again at the thought, her knees sweeping up to meet eye level.

It took several more tries, a few choice swear words in slurred Welsh and Delia’s right hand clasped tightly at the wrist by her left to eventually slide the key home. She heard the bolt slip and let her weight push against the glass of the door, a look of exultation on her face as it swung inwards to admit her. Still snickering to herself she tottered into the welcome warmth and familiarity of her little flat.

The walls were bright; the space comfortable if a little cluttered with knick-knacks and books strewn across any open patches of side board, window ledge or table available. She nearly crashed into the flimsy ikea coat rack as she dumped her bag next to the front door, it leaned slightly from the weight of too many garments on its thin arms beside her, her hair tangled in zips of winter coats and jackets relegated to face the wall during the summer months as she passed. 

The air smelled reassuring and sheltered; a patch of land that was firmly hers. Except... Maybe not, pasta and some rich oily tomato scent drifted through the space towards her, made her stop confusedly to sniff, unsure how a meal had been cooked if she'd not been here to do so. Fuck, it was practically zen that; if a meal is cooked in your house and you're not there to do the cooking does it really exist at all? She felt the giggles rise up in her again before they died abruptly in her throat as the few brain cells left clinging onto life boats of sense against the sea of invading alcohol waved the white flag of understanding frantically for her attention. Delia froze as she remembered who had cooked the dinner. Dinner. Lacey. Delia jerked to slap her forehead but missed by several inches, the pale skin of her palm rushing past her eyes dizzyingly. 

Well, shit.

Ears pricked now for any sound of her erstwhile house guest she tried to tip toe across the small hall to peak her head around her living room door. The hoped for element of stealth was only partially successful as she absentmindedly kicked her shoes away to the wall as she went, they made loud thumping noises as they bounced off the skirting board. She put her finger to her lips and shushed loudly down at the lumps of inanimate leather, then shushed herself even louder for making the first shush. A lone giggle bubbled up her throat indistinctly.

Luckily for Delia the need for stealth was quickly disproved as her eyes took in the scene before her. Lacey was lolling, head back, eyes closed and chest breathing the deep breaths of the dreamer on the squashy orange sofa Delia had picked up cheap in the British Heart foundation a few years back. The springs had nearly gone on it but she'd compensated with multitudes of fluffy throws tucked around the fading cushion covers. The TV was on but muted, the fuzzy blue light making Lacey's usually pale features seem even whiter, the flaming orange of her ginger bob darker in contrast against the shadows. A half full bottle of wine sat beside an empty wine glass on the pine coffee table. A half eaten bowl of pasta was there aswell, the fork still jutting out, spearing a stray strand of fusilli as though stabbed there by an impatient diner. Delia's nan always used to call it twirly pasta when she was little, Delia had never liked it much, her preference being weighted more towards the shells in her youth. Soaked up the sauce better.

Lacey had evidently been waiting up, the glasses she swore vehemently she didn't need were twisted around her fringe. Her simple tee's scoop neck had been dragged down during her shiftings to reveal the smattering of dark freckles on her chest. Delia smiled drunkenly at the arresting sight, drinking in the expense of skin. There was something endearing about finding Lacey like this; a calm emanating out from the dreaming figure. Delia felt a pang of longing, wanting to stroke the strands of hair that had fallen over the sleeping womans mouth away. 

There had been a few jokes from the other nurses when she'd started seeing the new OT, one or two remarks along the lines of whether curtains and carpet matched. Delia had joined in the jokes easily, complaining in mock outrage about the prevelance of gingerphobia in the workplace. Lacey sighed in her sleep, the closed lids hiding hazel eyes as Delia continued staring dowm at her, past and present mixing up in her addled brain. She'd done this all before she recalled. Stumbling closer she eased a strand of hair away from Lacey's lips and twirled it between her fingers sighing wistfully. Delia had always had a thing for red heads.

Forcing herself to be gentle, she sank down onto the lumpy mass of cushions and throws, sliding her arms carefully around Laceys waist, pressing her lips to the sleeping womans forehead as she removed the glasses and placed them on the coffee table with a gentle tap tap as the metal arms grazed the waxy top. She felt Lacey stir beside her; the faint snores evening out and lightening gradually. She was usually slow to wake, her 9-5 role giving her the luxury of a later lay in than Delia. 

They'd been seeing each other for six months or so, had met at a leaving party for someone from the admin office just after new years. Delia hadn't known the departing secretary particularly well but had been bullied into attending by a few workmates over her 'anti social granny lifestyle'. Lacey had been there too, hovering at the buffet table with a sparsely filled paper plate in hand, all on her own. The new girl on the block so to speak. She'd just got the job in the OT department, moved to Pembrokeshire from Manchester and had yet to make any real friends there. 

They'd bonded together over a bag of wotsits and cheap bottles of bourbon as they recounted stories about city life. Lacey had been impressed with Delia's experiences in London, Delia equally amused at the woman's horror stories of placements on psych wards in training before she specialised in physical OT. An easy kind of camaraderie had sprung up between them that night and a relaxed attraction had followed soon after. They met up every few days now, their relationship currently hovering at the awkward inbetween stage of casual sex and serious conversations neither seemed willing to breach or begin; they'd never discussed whether they were exclusive, whether they were even more than friends with benefits.

It was simple, nice but Delia doubted it could last much longer. Lacey wanted kids, a big house in town, stability. Delia couldn't help but feel distinctly awkward when the subject cropped up as it had begun to more and more in recent weeks, unable to imagine how she'd fit into such a vision but reluctant to break the spell they were under. In the meantime it was nice having someone to text in the bath about the archers when she sporadically managed to tune into it on her DAB radio borrowed from her grandads shed, someone to moan to about the price of milk in the farm shop up the road. Company, in short. 

Maybe there had been a time she'd wanted more but those dreams had been squashed so thoughroughly, so completely the thought of going through another heart break even a half of something like that left her feeling anxious and testy. Delia didn't do things like full time commitments any more. Not since London.

Lacey was warm and solid in Delia's arms. Her eyes still firmly closed as she rasped quietly,  
"Was' the time?" Delia let her head fall against the back of the sofa, it felt heavy.  
"Late". Her voice was just as groggy, her throat sore. Lacey lifted her head up to buss her lips across Delia's, licking her own immediately at the taste of beer and pulling her eyes open to study Delia, still sleepy.  
"You've been drinking?" The accusation was mild.  
"I know, I'm sorry. Today was... sort of rubbish". Stupid wank of a day actually.  
"S'okay, you're allowed.' Lacey was rubbing her eyes now, wiping the sleep from the corners, 'I cooked dinner, hope that's OK, I let myself in with the spare key". Delia let her face smile, looking up at the pebbledash design on the ceiling.  
"I don't mind, its why I keep it". Lacey snorted and shifted to rest her face on Delia's chest, strands of her hair tickling the skin of Delia's throat. Her shampoo smelt like tea tree- funny thing, Delia had almost expected the acrid scent of bleach.  
"You get a lot of women 'round here breaking in to cook you pasta?"  
"What can I say. I'm a one woman crime magnet." 

Lacey snorted and began to trace random patterns on Delia's thigh, her hands warm on Delia's leadened legs. They both sat there, the moment comfortable enough that Delia felt her head emptying, unable to muster the energy to think of anything other than the feeling of soft hands stroking her skin through the fabric of her tights. The edges of her brain began turning in on itself, her attention drifting off slightly.

"I thought you might be late tonight. I saw the headlines on the news." Delia grudgingly let herself be dragged back to earth, her head bending to take in the blurry flat screen across from them, the sound still muted, taking it in for the first time since she'd come home. 

A news reporter was standing in front of Westminster by the look of it, a strong wind blowing the hem of her thin coat so that it whipped at her knees. The image was bisected by a red border, facts scrolled repetitively down it in bold white letters. Flashes of words hit her dully. 60 dead. 400 unaccounted for. Numerous casualties in critical conditions in surrounding ICU's. The camera panned over to a group of weeping people clutching candles. Delia closed her eyes to the sight, the sting of ruined make up secondary to the stinging left from spent tears.

She hadn't meant to get drunk tonight. Then again she reasoned to herself, she hadn't meant to be party to many things that day. Hadn't planned to hanglide through hell. Still...She'd been stumbling up the road from the docks when she'd seen the welcoming light of the pub ahead. Had flinched at the raucous laughter tumbling out of the door as it swung loudly to admit a large group of whooping boys. The cold gloom of the evening had seemed to echo the feelings swimming about in her stomach. The sky had been an unappealing, sludgy grey, the air thick with the anticipation of fresh drizzle. 

She'd been through the door, pushing her way to the bar, watching the amber fizz of a pint being poured into an unmarked glass before she'd even given thought to the fact that someone was waiting for her at home. She'd promised herself only one drink.

Someone had paid the exorbitant £2 for a couple of songs on the big retro juke box at the back of the room. The sultry voice of Nancy Sinatra burbling about Sugar town filled the gaps in space between the mass of bodies. Delia drank her pint quickly, the fizz burning her chest in a pleasing way, the warmth spreading to her extremities. With only a faint twinge of guilt she had ordered a second pint and looked down moodily at the scratched surface of the rickety table once she'd got it in her grasp.

The song had drifted to Elvis. His deep voice crooned out the dreamy lyrics to "its now or never". The call up papers had been folded neatly in her bag but not forgotten, the bulge kept drawing her gaze as she chugged down her second pint.

She ordered a third, choosing to sip this one as she fingered the metal case of her phone gloomily. There were no message alerts greeting her. Phyllis was either dead or couldn't reach her phone. Delia considered the trusty filofax the northener swore by and kept in her handbag at all times. Half remembered lectures on mankinds increasing reliance on technology to store information rang in her ears; "and what will happen when the power cuts out. Panic and discord". She wondered if the nurse had been carrying it with her on the ward when the bomb had struck. She imagined burnt pages fluttering amongst rubble as volunteers scrabbled through dusty lump of unidentifiable detritus. It was hard to imagine anything short of a bomb stopping Phyllis from calling her back, to chide Delia's melodramatic messages. 

The glass slickened her parched lips as her fingers scrolled through her call log intently. 2 calls from her mother this morning, a call from Lacey on Sunday. A call centre number left unanswered. Phyllis had last rang two weeks ago according to her device. The interaction had been a rushed thing she recalled, the conversation light as they chatted over Phyllis's loudspeaker on her way to Spanish class. Delia wished she'd given it more concentration now. She could have said any number of things, she could have told Phyllis how much she meant to her as a friend, how much her stalwart kindness had kept her going at times. Now though, there didn't seem to be the option of saying those things. It was a stupid and childish way to feel but she none the less she felt cheated by the sick workings of the world. 

The other side of the room burst into loud laughter breaking off her melancholic musings sharply. A woman with curly peroxide blonde hair giggled shrilly and batted her eyes up to a sandy haired man. Delia watched her through the bottom of her glass. The room stained a golden hue. Her brain twitched with thoughts she couldn't quite supress, her fingers tapping irritably on the table as though trying to rub them away. Phyllis wasn't the only person missing. Torturously she pondered the fate of Trixie, Barbara... The other one.

Ahh, there it was, the sting of memories grinding at her like a kind of emotional tooth ache. It was embarrassing really, how much the thought of Her still sent a dull ache running through Delia's body. She had avoided the concept of Her all afternoon, her brain rebelling against the name out ofhabit. Vaguely she thought she would feel it if Patsy had d-

Her fingers drummed harder at the table until the tips seemed to press little indents into the wax polish. The thought of a world without Patsy somewhere in it was a terrible thing. With Phyllis MIA it was impossible to be certain whether the worst possible outcome had been realised. Her eyes fell back to her phone on the table. Well, maybe not quite impossible.

Her fingers continued their irrepressible tattoo on the wood as she grappled with her thoughts. If she knew for certain that Patsy was dead she didn't think she'd ever leave this seat, did not think she would ever find a way to continue living as she had done, the mere prospect of it burning like an angry welt. But then, not knowing, carrying on with existing and baring the seeds of doubt were just as unappealing. The phone lay motionless on the table before her...

She had deleted Patsys contact details from her phone as soon as her feet had touched Welsh soil years ago. She had been meticulous in her attempt to remove all reminders, had discarded anything that could possibly stir the melting pot of memory. A pointless endeavour really, some habits were just too strong, too ingrained. She picked up the phone slowly, swiped open the screen and pulled her phone app up. Patsy's name might not be on the contact list but the numbers were seared into her brain none the less. Hardly breathing she tapped in the eleven little numbers and pushed the green circle.

The phone rang several times, the dial strangely echoey in the vacuum of cellular connection, she imagined sound waves careening up to a satellite and bouncing back off into space; searching. After five rings Delia's heart gave a lurch, uncertain if she should bother leaving a message. What did you say to a dead woman you had staunchly ignored for six years? She nearly dropped the phone in shock when the line paused for a millisecond as it connected. Someone answered. A clear accent, so sharp it could cut glass, filled her world.

"Yes-Hello?" Delia felt her hands tremble, certain she'd have fallen to her knees if she'd been standing. Slow, even breaths floated through the line as Patsy waited for a reply. Delia's mouth felt useless and slack, completely lost for words.  
"Are you hurt? I can't hear you, are you trapped?" The voice was strained, tinged with concern. She'd be chewing her bottom lip, Delia could see her clearly in her minds eye doing it. She must have thought the caller was someone from the London. Delia should speak, should reassure her-  
"Hello? Who is this?" Just say hello she told herself firmly, tell her you saw the news and wanted to check she was alright. Realising that the call was drifting into heavy breathing nuisance territory she steeled herself to respond, to introduce herself again after all this time. Patsy, seemingly always one step ahead, saved her the bother and called out hesitantly.  
"Delia? Is... Is that you?" Delia gasped, the sound of her name conjuring too many memories. She ended the call abruptly, the phone beeped twice more and fell silent in the palm of her hand.

Delia clutched at her pint, more to give herself something to do than a desire for more alcohol. She waited tensely to see if Patsy would ring back, thinking she might check the number on the call log and make a concrete connection. There was no way the woman would remember her number she reasoned to herself sternly. She had never meant the same to Patsy as Patsy had to her. 

Delia finished her pint. Staggering slightly and ordered another and then another. Patsy was alive. Gloriously alive. Hope grew in Delia's chest like a petulant weed. The revelation had made the pub brighter, the laughter of the other patrons seem friendly and inviting. The beer had tasted fresh in her mouth. Patsy was not dead. Delia cheered with the rest as someone started humming the national anthem, giggled as the familiar opening lines of Cwm Rhondda sounded, content to rest for a while. The phone remained in the center of the table. It didn't ring, Patsy did not call back.

"Hmm?", her attention was pulled back to the present as the hand on her leg ceased it's movements. Lacey rolled her eyes as she repeated her question.  
"I said, wasn't the London where you trained? I wasn't completely sure when I saw the news but I'm sure you said the London to me before." Delia forced her body not to stiffen, to keep her expression empty and relaxed giving her companion a non committal shrug and shifting her weight to reposition the suddenly too heavy body beside her.  
"Mhmm, listen, I'm starving, did you leave me anything to eat?" Lacey nodded, her eyebrows furrowed and lent aside to let Delia slip away.  
"I left you over half, it was in the oven to keep warm". Delia smiled and stood up, stretching her arms as she plodded over to the kitchen door.

The kitchen was the usual magnolia affair of all ex rentals but she'd done her best to brighten the space with eclectic kitchen ware. Everything slightly different, no two items the exact shade or colour as the next. Rubbing her neck to work out a kink that had set in as she'd lain on the sofa, staring unseeing at the ceiling opening the oven door. It creaked at her movements. The rich smell of tomatoes grew stronger. Groping for a fork she shovelled the first bite down hungrily. It really had been a long day.

She heard footsteps following her from behind, became aware of eyes boring into her back. Turning she saw Lacey had followed her and was hovering in the kitchen doorway, arms folded across her chest.  
"You know, we can talk about things... if you want to?" Delia let the words ring in the silence as her second mouthful squeezed down her asophegus heavily. She licked her lips to wipe away sauce residue  
"I... I don't really want to do that, if you don't mind. It's late". the clock on the wall said it was half eleven. Lacey softened, her arms falling to her sides and looked round at the clock as well,  
"Gosh, isn't it, we'll be pumpkins if we don't hurry. You'll be knackered tomorrow, we both will". Delia placed the dish on the little dining table pressed against the side.  
"I'm off tomorrow actually."  
"Oh? You never said, I thought it was your long week".  
Delia pressed the fork down on the table, pinning it at the curve and letting the butt spin.  
"It is, I've been given a bit of leave for... stuff."

Lacey looked as though she was going to ask the question on the tip of her tongue for a moment before her face cleared into a sultry smile and she stepped forward to finger the seam of Delias uniform.  
"Well, in that case, why don't we make use of your fortuous time off then?" She brought her head forward to kiss Delia.

Delia let it happen, feeling curiously detached from proceedings. They stumbled back through the lounge, discarding clothing as they went, crossed the landing, heard the crash as the long suffering coat rack finally tipped over at their twisting movements, and slipped into Delia's bedroom.

Lacey released her grip on Delias arm to grope in the darkness for the light switch as the stumbled in but Delia pulled her questing hand back, tonight she wanted the dark. Lacey was only an inch taller than Delia standing up, lying down the height could have been more. The hands that stroked her burning flesh were small and soft, gentle. Delia pulled at them, dragging them closer wanting them rougher on her skin. Needing more pressure from dry palms made so by one too many encounters with detergents. The hair was wrong too, Lacey's natural shade just a bit too light in the kitchen but somehow, right now, the shadows made it darker. Satisfyingly so. When the red head shifted down Delia's body determinably, her mouth leaving trails of cold air over Delia's breasts, her stomach, her hips, stopping only at the apex of her thighs Delia felt her hands twitch, needing something but torn at how to reach it. Cool breath blew on the swollen sensitive flesh playfully and Delia felt a real shiver shoot through her as she looked down at the back of Patsys head wonderingly. The bobbing graceful neck holding her gaze.

A clever tongue swiped at her clit as long fingers pushed at her knowingly. So good, she was so good at this. Delia panted excitedly. She'd missed this for so long... 

It ended quickly, the force shocking her through the beer filled daze. When she came, her body shuddering uncontrollably, a gushing between her legs, her own name muttered in honeyed tones sending her mind reeling, her mouth closed shut to stop herself screaming. The voice from the phone call hours earlier rang in her ears.  
"Delia..."

Some time later, the minutes bleeding into one another confusingly, her chest rising and falling as she struggled to catch her breath, hair stuck to her sweaty forehead. Delia wrapped her arms limply around Lacey. Her mouth pressing down on the womans freckled shoulder.

"You're actually crying. Was it really that good?" Lacey sounded smug, content as she ran her fingers along Delia's cheek and gently balanced a tear onto her fingertip, studying it for a second before sucking the drop of moisture and finger into her mouth, smiling.

Delias brain felt empty, hollow. Her mouth released the words she'd yet to say but knew she should suddenly as though a switch had been flicked. Stupid. Stupid.  
"Lacey... I joined the army."

No one reacted, the statement seeming to just hang in the air. Laceys chin gleamed from the glow of the street lamps and drying spit, her lips were swollen from kisses already fading away. Hazel eyes frowned, thrown by the blurted comment.  
"What?"  
"I joined the army. Today." Lacey's eyes were very round before seeming to lighten as she laughed, the noise jarring in the confined space.  
"Funny joke idiot." Delia could feel the sweat cooling on her neck as the noise of disbelieving snorts filled the room, a swell of concern stirring in her gut.  
"No, seriously. I did it after work, well, I was coming back here and saw the signs and did it. I'm expected this Saturday."

The smile was fading, hazel eyes meeting blue tentatively as though willing Delia to break the tension and admit the lie. Delia stared back, eyes wide. Lacey gasped.

"When? Why?" Delia felt herself go limp, let her head flop back against the pillow as a wave of fatigue so complete hit her, the lethargy draining the heat from her limbs.  
"I dunno, I just... The London. That was my hospital, you were right. I couldn't just do nothing... I had people there." Lacey was scrabbling around to sit up, her knees folded underneath her, face ashen.  
"But Delia, your a nurse not a soldier. You can't go off fighting a war for christ sake".

Delia bit her lip to stop the retort building in her from reaching open air.  
"Yeah, well I'm not going to be GI Jane or something, I'll be a medic. It's fine to be upset but I need to do this Lace. I just... have to do something." 

She expected Lacey to keep talking but she didn't. Delia watched wordlessly from the bed as the woman stood up, fumbling around in the dark for bra and knickers.  
"You're tapped... Fucking army Delia! What the hell am I meant to do with that". Underwear was pulled up and then the door thudded as jeans and t-shirt were gathered from the floor in the living room.  
"I thought we were going somewhere for fucks sake. The Army? Are you actually kidding me". The words were muffled by two walls and then there was a creak as the front door was dragged open.

"I even cooked you dinner!" Was the final call as the door slammed shut. The frame juddering under the force of the closure.

Delia didn't move from the bed. Her eyes heavy, heart calm and resolute. Overall, that could have been handled better she mused. Lights slid across the ceiling as cars trundled outside, the beams making shadows on the walls. The booze made the world fluffy and she struggled to fully make sense of recent events. Eyes heavy, limbs too tired to make her go and lock the door she fell into a restless sleep.

That night her dreams were filled with images of blue eyes and long legs and the sultry call of "Delia?"


	5. Can patter out their hasty orisons.

The cool glass of the coach window pressed red marks into the skin of Delia's forehead as the vibrations from the rumbling motor wheezed out a rhythm that made the seats shake. The old stagecoach bus was cold, the recycled air from the ancient air conditioning unit drying out throats and forcing its patrons to throw on initially discared coats and jackets grumpily. 

The scenery beyond the window merged from green fields to grey motorways and back again as the route zigzagged between towns and villages. Stopping sporadically to admit one or two more would-be soldiers before trundling off again. 

The bus station had been jam packed tightly when Delia had arrived there, the old wheel of her borrowed suitcase squeeking faintly as it rotated on the dirty linoleum. Her mam and dad had seen her off. Her mam had held Delia very tightly as they queued at the door and once they were through the threshold had been forced to stop, dabbing at her face with a hankie as she pretended not to cry too loudly. They all stopped a little way off from the khaki clad soldier waiting at the information booth, clip board in hand. 

Her dad had rubbed Delia's shoulders gruffly at their impending parting and surreptitiously shoved a crisp twenty pound note into her hand with the clipped instructions that she use the money to phone home as soon as she arrived at the barracks. Which Delia supposed was the male version of crying. Delia had laughed lightly, trying to reassure them as she chided gently,  
"It's not a cubs outing dad, I'm sure they've got better signal in Surrey than we have in Pembrokeshire." Her father had shrugged his shoulders, the blue eyes she'd inherited looking down at her in a rare show of solemnity from his usually soft features.  
"If you don't like it you're to come home Cariad. There'll be no shame from us, we want you to be happy." The words 'and safe' were not added but Delia understood the unspoken message none the less. She'd smiled weakly at the two of them, committing the image of her mother in her best church hat and her father reaching across to clasp his wifes hand to memory. They had both stayed standing there, watching closely, long after Delia had taken in a final deep breath and announced herself to the orderly.

The man had smiled at her, he had an incisor tooth missing she noted, and scanned a practised eye down several lists on his board.  
"Busby, Delia... Let's see. Ahh, you're over there' he pointed a yellowish thumb at a bay near the end of the row, 'medical staff and clerk coach. Bus leaves in half an hour so I'd take the opportunity to use the facilities if I was you. I can tell you from experience the journeys a total ball ache, best avoid stinking the can out before you even hit the motorway". Delia had nodded uncertainly and pulled her noisy case along the room to the correct bay as instructed.

The noise had been deafening in the high domed station. People were milling about everywhere she looked; calling out shrilly to friends and family alike. Wives and mothers dabbed at chins or smoothed out collars and wrinkles, dragging out the final goodbyes while boys shifted around restlessly, cheeks red from blushes at being mothered in public. 

A fat man with a greying moustache and a dark blue unitard was hovering around the door to Delias bus. At Delia's approach he flicked away a thin roll up from his mouth where it smoked damply on the soft tarmac and reached to take the case from her grip. She'd followed him slowly to the back of the coach and watched as he squeezed it into the trunk space between a beige duffle bag and a collection of brief cases. As he turned to her smiling benignly she'd read the name appliquéd neatly onto his chest over his heart- F. Buckle.

The man had patted a pocket absentmindedly and winked down at her, a conspiratorial gleam in his eye.  
"You smoke miss?" Delia had shook her head firmly, the feel of her mam's eye still burning into her even though she was sure she was firmly out of sight.  
"Ahh, no, quite right, terrible habit' the mans voice sounded blustery as he back tracked quickly and dropped his hands to his side. Scanning the parting scenes before them he sighed a little wistfully and scratched at his nose,  
"Would give anything to be joining you miss. Best years of my life were in the army, you'll see the highs and lows of the world."  
"Yeah..." 

Delia's answer was only half hearted as she watched a boy that was surely only just past his 16th birthday shrug off his weeping mother and walk onto another coach stiffly, not looking back.The mother sunk to her knees as the boy disappeared from view, hands clutching at thin air as though willing her son to be dragged back into her arms by sheer force of will while a girl of about twelve wrapped a comforting arm around her mothers shaking shoulders, crying almost as hard. Twisting her gaze back to her companion Delia frowned as she took in his bulk.  
"You were in the army? How come you're driving the bus?" Fred straightened up, his heels clicking slightly as they collided, standing half at attention.  
"Army remy core, six years service to her majesty during the troubles in Ireland." 

Delia considered the man with slightly more respect and asked a variant to the question that had been plaguing her since Wednesday.  
"Did you see a lot of action Mr Buckle?" The man seemed to deflate slightly at her question and squirmed defensively.  
"Not quite action, not exactly what you'd call action per se," He bobbed slightly as he blushed, "I was a manager in the latriene core as a matter of fact, not that some of those lavvies didn't seem as bad as a war zone some days' he added hurriedly, fingers gesticulating towards Delia. "Morning after curry night could knock a weaker man down dead. Still, did my bit then got an honorable discharge after my third tour, got into a scrap with a paddy in a bar, little scally near scalped me with a pint glass. Did a bit of handymanning jobs afterwards- great for giving you a trade, the army is. Mind you-' he peered at Delia, ' says on my paper's that I'm shipping off the medics and secretarys this trip so I s'pose you'll already have all that sorted". 

Delia nodded weakly as the man jolted and stepped off to collect a travel bag from a harrassed young woman who was weaving through the crowd wearing specs so thick they could have been milk bottle bottoms. Delia had stood in the cramped, frenetic hall for a few minutes longer and then slouched onto the coach, stomach fluttering with barely suppressed nerves. 

The coach had chugged off fifteen minutes later, puffing thick clouds of choking smoke into the confined space. That had been three hours ago and the feeling of trepidation had melted away as they drifted further away from home; the Welsh border having been crossed an hour into the trip. A few people were nodding off against neighbours shoulders but Delia couldn't find rest as they wended their way across open countryside. The engine spluttering and griping as it puffed up steep hills and under narrow bridges. 

Delia felt her breath release from her mouth as her face rested against the glass and watched the condensation build up there, the fog creeping higher and higher up the perspex frame until the view was completely distorted and hidden from sight. Idly, she drew out nonsense shapes into the mist; a hill, a sun in the corner. A little stick figure Delia stood at the end of a twisting path and then another stick figure, the body longer was sketched out standing some way off. Next came a childish house, all roughly shaped, with square windows and a blobby door. Delia stared at her creation as the vibrations made her head bounce slightly off the glass while they traversed a particularly badly maintained stretch of road. Sighing, she swept her hand across the image, smudging the thick lines into nothingness, her thoughts turning to home. 

Her parents had been surprisingly calm when she'd sat them down in their spotless living room on Wednesday afternoon, a plate of homemade Welsh cakes freshly baked for her visit cooling on the coffee table, sunlight spilling in wide arcs across the twice weekly scrubbed wooden floor. Their reactions had been far from surprised at her stuttered revelation. After a few tearful reassurances that he understood and was proud of her Delia's father had quit the room muttering something about watering his petulias. Always shy at great plays of emotion but steadfastly besotted with his only child Rhys Busby had left them to deal with his grief in private. 

Both Busby women had watched him go in silence, allowing him to continue his misplaced belief that they were both unaware of the small hole in the half brick wedged under the shed that housed a packet of cigarettes. Delia knew for a fact that the secret smoke breaks had often sustained her father when her mother had fallen into 'a fit of the sullens.' Her mother, on her part, helped the deceit by allowing him to carry change in his pockets, a habit she routinely flinched at when her finely tuned ears heard the tell tale clinking of coins in the pockets of fellow shoppers in town. "Choose a man who keeps only small secrets Cariad" had been her mother's response when Delia had discovered a cigarette butt in the gravel at fifteen. 

After her father's exit her mother had considered her child firmly.  
"Promise me you're doing this for the right reasons Delia. I know you worked at that hospital but if this has anything to do with that Mount woman we shall have words my girl." Delia hadn't responded, a naughty schoolchild in a womans body, twiddling the edge of the sofa arms, eyes downcast.  
"Cariad,' the voice had softened, 'you shouldn't do this to yourself. I still wake up at night thinking of how you were when you first came home. I never thought I'd see the day someone broke my little girls heart. I don't want you messing about in all of that again."

"I'm not mam, I'll be in Surrey not London. I won't say what happened with the bomb didn't make my decision a little quicker than maybe it could've been but I've been needing to do something big for ages. I'm not built for quiet living.' Delia sighed sadly, apprehensive at her mothers disapproval but unable to lie to her. She'd smell out an untruth anyway, memories of scoldings when she'd tried to pass off a whole bunt cakes dissaperance as a casualty to the man in the moons appetites making her smile ruefully. Besides, she did love her mam, even when she was driving her mad, her opinion mattered to Delia. Always had.

Warm arms enfolded her, the familiar smell of dough and lily of the valley perfume wrapping her up like a favourite pair of pajamas. Her mam smelled like home and Wales. Delia relaxed into the embrace as her mother stroked her fringe fondly.  
"You've always done things your own way, always known your own mind, it's not our place to stop you doing what you think is best sweetheart."  
"Am I letting you down, are you angry I'm leaving again?" The questions were timid, muffled by the snuffly fuzz of her mothers marks and sparks cardy. Eileen Busby sighed into her daughters hair,  
"Oh Cariad, of course I'm sad. But I'm your mam, I'm meant to be sad...' she'd hesitated as she rubbed at the birthmark behind Delia's ear, 'just don't do anything too dangerous. Don't break your dads heart." 

The next few days had been a flurry of activity. Keys had been cut and her dad had prospected a few agents who could rent out Delia's flat while she was away informing her that she might as well make a bit of money from holiday makers while she was off saving lives. Her mother had dithered over the list of clothes she needed to bring just as she'd done when Delia was little and going on a school trip. She'd practically frog marched her daughter to the high street, fretting about the wording of the uniform as they perused the formal ware section of Debenhams; "it says three buttons Cariad". 

They'd almost walked off from one another in the old army surpless shop, her mother insisting that Delia purchase a full mess set complete with billy can and camping knives and forks. Delia had been forced to shout her down with cries of,  
"mam it's the army! I'm certain they provide stuff like cutlery to their soldiers. Didn't grandad say the army marched on its stomach! I'm sure that included implements to eat with!" They'd left the shop sans tins, the atmosphere chilly and eventually made up again when Delia got them a table in her mothers favourite tea room. They had split a strawberry tart between them, the frost melting as they munched on the delicate pastry. 

BOOM

Delia was thrust back into the bus as they skidded to a halt outside a grand looking church hall. Mr Buckle swore loudly as he squeezed out from behind the steering wheel and the doors hissed to let him off.

Two voices drifted through the opening his departure left; the first a high alto but clearly male and the second a cheery nervous kind of braying voiced female. The syllables of the second voice fell together oddly, the accent distinctly posh. 

Delia sat up a little straighter, glancing around at the desolate village about them unable to discern where in the country they were. The voices was still burbling outside the coach through a window, clearly audible as the thump of the trunk opened and bags were deposited in the small space. 

If money had a voice it would sound like that Delia decided. The tones of the woman hinted strongly of a person whose ancestors were people who 'got on with things'. It conjured visions of duchesses giving birth by the shade of convenient elephants in swassi land while lordly husbands were busy at the fray. The invisible woman clearly belonged to the faintly oppressive school of Women Who Organised. Without seeing her Delia knew that she'd have the kind of relative matriarchs who, even as faceless barbarian hoards banged down the front door, could still be counted on to hand out the little pyramid of chocolates and cucumber sandwiches to visiting barons. Crusts off, of course. Delia squinted up the row as the voice got louder and the pair mounted the steps.

A shrivelled man wearing a wide brimmed hat and an expression of brimming keenness alighted first. Eyes scanning the compartment he quickly slid in beside a, frankly terrified, looking woman with short hair near the front. The second figure followed after, bending slightly as the low roof struggled to accommodate her amazonian height. 

Too late, Delia tried to avert her gaze but the damage had already been done as their eyes met. A sheepish smile drifted across a long face, teeth jutting out slightly and a distinctly weak chin wobbled as the woman scrambled along the rows of occupied chairs towards her. When she was still several rows away the massive woman slipped on a bag not quite tucked under the seat and fell forward, landing heavily on the floor with a distinctive lack of grace. Glasses spun away down the aisle as some unkind souls laughed openly.

Delia hurried to bend over the prone form, hovering above the womans twitching frame,  
"Are you alright?" The woman bounded up like a balloon that had just been burst, cheeks tinged with pink.

"Oh botheration, frightfully sorry about that. Never know where to put ones feet in crowds I'm afraid- oh thank you" The woman smiled bleakly as hands from behind Delia extended out proffering the lost glasses. Delia shuffled back to her seat beside the window to let the woman squeeze in beside her, knees knocking against the back of the chairs in front.

From the front of the bus Mr Buckle shut the doors and dropped back in front of the steering wheel. Breaks squeeled reproachfully the coach pulled away from the curb and returned to it's previous course. Delia shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she became aware of the woman staring at, eyes blinking occasionally in the muted light.

"I say, this is all rather exciting isn't it? Im Camilla by the way, Camilla Fortescue-Cholmeley-Browne but everyone calls me Chummy' she gave a soft snort, 'bit of a buggerance getting all of it out else im afraid. Pa used to say long dogs need short names." Delia felt herself smile back at her neighbours openess, involuntarily charmed by the awkward Chummy. 

"I'm Delia Busby, most people call me Delia, I've never had a nickname." Chummys eyes widened brightly,  
"Oh honestly, we must think of one, they're absolutely the most splendid fun. I used to be quite good at picking them for the other girls at school." 

They passed the next ten minutes cheerfully as Chummy offered up suitable names. Delia chuckled as she discarded Delly, Leah, Del's, Busbers. Eventually they agreed that she should just stick with her Christian name as the bus juddered onto the M4, cars flashing by as they floundered in the slow lane. 

"How far do you think we are now?" asked Delia. Chummy blinked and looked out at the sweeping road.  
"Oh not too long I suppose. Fred told us we were his last stop before hitting blighty".  
"Fred?"  
"Oh, hadn't you spoken to him? The driver, delightful chap salt of the earth as grand Mater would say."  
"Oh, no I did, just didn't get his first name".  
"In school we were always taught to ask questions, makes people feel far easier. There's no point in being a damp nelly in social situations. A girl in form B, Bunty Harrison-glensdale Smyth told me her father made her write out birthday cards to all the staff at home, can you imagine! I've always thought it a dreadfully important thing to do". 

Delia nodded slowly, entranced by a woman clearly so well bred she could probably lead troops into battle. Chummy seemed the sort of person who, when naming any number of school chums, immediately assumed that her companion would know them too. 

"I'm jolly piqued by all this soldier play. Ma nearly pitched a fit when I enlisted, Papa has friends in Sandringham, Uncle Bucky - do you know him, has a place in Surrey and breeds cocker spaniels, said he could speak to his chum Roger- lovely man, collects stamps you know, and wrangle me a spot at the officers college but I put my foot down and told them that one needs to plough ones own furrow in life. I thought I'd miss the bus, luckily reverend Appleby- charming chap, just got back from a missionaries posting in Uganda, gave me the wink and I was off like a shot with my bags." Delia blinked in the torrent of Rogers and Buckys. 

"Are you going into nursing?"  
"Oh heavens no, I'm terrible at the sight of blood, I come over quite faint. No, Im going into the orderlies lot, quite a few people have joined up. Although I'm a little nervous about the basic training, im frightfully unfit, the medic nearly didn't pass me but I think I pulled it back with a few extra squats. What about you, will we do battle against bad filing systems together". Delia shook her head, amused. 

"No, I'm a nurse. Thought I'd join up after I saw the bombing in London, I figured I could do more help in the army." Chummy swooned excitedly,  
"How dreadfully brave of you. I positively blubbered at the news and then again when that second attack happened yesterday. All those children, I thought to myself- Camilla, these bally cowards need to be stopped as soon as possible. Absolute rotters". Delia felt a heat creep down her neck at Chummys words. 

A second bomb had hit yesterday, a school in the middle of Liverpool its apparent target. The news had been torn between two crisis while parents shook in desolation before the cameras. The mood grew solenn as they both considered the latest attack.

"Pa says the war won't be a long one, he says Roger says it'll be all over and done with come Christmas". Chummy ventured, even her voice sounding doubtful.  
"Yes, I expect he would", answered Delia softly. 

Outside the bus they passed by a cheerful sign that read, "Welcome to Surrey, twinned with Maritious". Another sign a little way further off informed them Woking was only twenty miles away.

The atmosphere entensified perceptibly as the coach edged nearer and nearer to their destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all take a moment to appreciate the character of Chummy. I just love her and feel that these two would have got on. 
> 
> Anyhoo, thought I'd give the angst a slight break before camp. After all, who knows what's waiting there for our Delia or who...
> 
> SB


	6. No mockeries for them now; no prayers nor bells;

"Watch out-'"

"Ouch! That was my foot."

"Move up, move up I said it's freezing in here."

"So sorry old thing, lost track of my feet."

"I think my bag is stuck in the door."

"Did anyone bring tampons?!"

"Forget the tampons sweetie who brought booze?"

Delia currently was struggling through a narrow cramped corridor surrounded by fifteen or so other women as they tussled over each other in confusion. Their entrance into the camp had been nothing short of barely controlled organised chaos as they were forced to wait to enter the front gates, squirming in mounting anticipation, at the back of a queue behind four other coaches. As soon as they'd wheeled onto the tarmac and the doors had opened they'd been hurriedly shunted out into the chilly air by a nervous looking Fred. Stumbling due to cramped limbs and trying to surreptitiously rub at fingers and toes sporting pins and needles as they had been lined up; backs to the coach side, shoulders rubbing the shoulders of the next person as they swayed in the slight breeze. 

The genders had been split immediately; the men directed one way and the women another by a young man who didn't look much older than twenty but still wore the stripes of a sergeant on his shoulders. They had been shouted to the back of the bus to collect their bags, some people bending in half at the weight of their baggage before a thick set woman with a square jaw pigeon stepped them over a freshly painted parade ground, passed long lines of bergen packs and boots set out at intervals and into a building block the other side of the compound.

The group had been deposited rather unceremoniously into a cold foyer as more buses had rumbled into the grounds, nearly colliding into the ones trying to leave. The woman left them without commenting on what exactly they should be doing next; leaving a clip board resting on a low window frame and jogging over to the scene, her hoarse bark lost in the din of horns beeping mutinously.

The group had been left standing huddled together, a few sinking down to straddle their bags. No one daring to speak after their rushed admittance into the room but all shooting shy glances about them from beneath lashes. Delia did the same. Some were athletic, Delia noted a skinny woman with a shaved head, the light reflecting from mousy roots standing nearest to the door, her back to the group, apparently scanning the next wave of recruits as they followed the same routine they'd all just gone through. A few of them seemed a shade more rotund than others, a few bellies extended over trouser seams or belts and Delia wondered how they would cope with the physical aspects of the course feeling privately relieved her father had made her jog bi weekly since she turned sixteen, 

"No one wants to look like your cousin Blod, Cariad".

Chummy was the tallest by far by nearly a foot, the woman kept glancing over to Delia in a nervous way. Her hand creeping up to grasp something hidden underneath her shirt, holding the thing for a few moments before releasing it and fiddling with her hands before repeating the process all over again.

After ten minutes a male voice with a cockney accent drifted down from the corridor ahead, it grew louder steadily, the tones seeming to bounce of the walls, eventually revealing a lithe man with copper skin, boots gleaming like two mirrors were set into the leather. The group around Delia shifted subtly in interest as the man seemed to pause, taking them in all. He seemed to be less than impressed by what he saw. After looking down at his watch for a moment he nodded to himself in a satisfied sort of way before addressing the room at large.

"Medical and admin staff right?" There were a few nods of heads around Delia and a couple of mumbled affirmatives. The man watched them owlishly, his expression long suffering.

"Right, from now on you're all known collectively as squad P, got it? Good, because I don't like to repeat myself. Now, we're currently waiting for a few more stragglers to join the party so in the meantime,' he grinned nastily eyeing a chubby girl two bodies to the right from Delia, 'we're going to have a bit of fun. Up this corridor is a flight of stairs. On the first floor there is a room second on the left, you will take your shit,' his shiny toe nudged the end of case close to him, voice enunciating every clipped syllable clearly, 'and you will deposit it, neatly, in the foot well space in front of a bed. You will then return to the parade ground and fall in', he stepped closer to Chummy, his eyes cold, 'do you know what falling in means private?" Chummy looked alarmed at being called upon but rallied quickly.  
"I think it means we all stand in a line, sir"

The soldier seemed to smirk, clearly pleased as his voice raised a few octaves.  
"Sir? Sir, private! Do you see any pips on my here shoulders you horrible little woman! I'm a bloody NCO, a phrase which means non commissioned officer to you greenies. I'm not a bloody sir! You bunch of fannies will address me as Corporal from this moment on and nothing else, is that understood!" His eyes glared out to take in the room as a whole, the remaining group stood mute before him; a silence so complete a pin could have been heard to fall filling the room nastily .

"Well? This is the part where you say, yes corporal!" Several of the girls flinched at the range of the man's voice as they all mumbled out an approximation of ''yes corporal'. Unmoved by their feeble response the man waved a hand and pointed his index finger behind him over his shoulder.

"Forget it, you've got ten minutes to follow my instructions. I urge you all not to fuck it up this early in the day. Now, GO!".

 

So here she was, stumbling down a corridor while the others scrabbled around her, the corporals bellows ringing in their ears. The forewarned stairs ahead of them were narrow but steep and soon there was the multidepthed sound of fabric rubbing on concrete as they all dragged their burdens clumsily up to the first floor. The stairs continued curving upwards but the two front runners charged at the door to the side as they piled onto the landing, calling out appreciatively to the rest as a second door banged open ahead. Delia waited for Chummy as the others passed by in a blur of bodies, her eyes sweeping over the mousy haired skinhead as she passed, puzzled by something she saw there but unable to identify what it was. Chummy managed to bash both of Delia's shins with her Louis Vitton luggage as she loomed close at hand, face ruddy from exertion.

Together, they followed the voices of the others as they all began bagsying beds loudly. The room was huge, adjustable walls on wheels partitioned off six beds and wardrobes at a time with a communal mini kitchen at the far end and a shower and toilet block off to one side. Women were already banding together, shouting over to friends old and new to get into spaces close by. The mousy haired woman had strut over to a section of thus far unoccupied beds and began spreading out her bag, coat and handbag onto three of them, confidence seeming to emanate from her very pores as she did. Evidently she was marking them for others although Delia didn't see anyone making as if to follow her. Chummy gave her a tap and an ingratiating smile, head cocked towards a pair of beds across from the bald woman with an unspoken question. 

Delia nodded appreciatively at the offer and wheeled her case to an empty bed. The narrow single was framed by a wardrobe with a set of drawers built about it. She opened the wardrobe experimentally, peering into the compartments as Chummy hefted her own case onto her mattress and somehow managed to bounce the thing straight off again, clearly dropping it too hard. Delia smiled patiently and bent to help her retrieve the bag. Together they hiked into the footwell and once certain it wouldn't roll off anywhere the two of them stood together, surveying the scene in front of them.

There was no linen in the room that Delia could see, the beds bore only thin mattresses, and the walls were bare and spotlessly clean. The smell of bleach hung heavy in the air; although Delia could be just overly sensitive to that particular scent. The woman across the way was plugging in a phone charger in the socket under the bedside table, head bent low as she scrolled through her messages. Delia watched her carefully, frowning as she felt again the nagging suspicion that she knew her from somewhere. Struggling to think, Delia searched the bent body looking for clues. There was something familiar, the name hung tantalisingly somewhere out of her grasp...

The woman ended Delia ponderings by turning suddenly, straightening up to look around her, her face clearly visible as she did so, the familiar sharp features shining out from an unrecognisable face-

"Trixie?" Delia's voice was disbelieving as she took the delicate woman in. The Trixie from Delia's memory was gone, the permanent preemed hair had been taken away, her nails were free of the usual polish. She seemed diminished somehow, face serious and older than their years. At the sound of her name the woman looked over to Delia and Chummy, confusion evident. She did not appear to recognise Delia immediately as though the cogs in her head were only moving at half speeds but after a heart beat she seemed to shake as though struck by an invisible blow.

"Delia..."  
"Trixie!" Delia practically ran down the foot space to reach the fragile woman, she seemed smaller than she had, clutched in her arms, her body seemed breakable, as though a strong word would send her juddering into cracked diamond facets. Trixie seemed to flinch at the initial contact before melting into the hold.  
"Trixie! Oh Trixie you're really here! I thought you were..." Delia could feel tears bubbling behind her eyes as she absorbed the fact that Trixie was alive and miraculously well, her thoughts sped off to consider the others, "You're alive and you're here! Bloody Hell Trix, we're in the army!" 

Trixie smiled weakly back at Delia, apparently pleased but still a little hesitant. Her hand crooked up at the elbow as though she still held the ghost of a cigarette in her fingers. Delia felt as though she would burst with happiness at the sight she thought she'd never see again.  
"Oh well, everyone joined the army. Anyone who wasn't attached to a drip marched to the recruiting office that night. Half the hospital's signed up for the infiltry.' she chuckled brittely, 'Phyllis pitched a fit when they said she was too old. She's probably lobbying for the age restrictions to be lifted under extreme situations as we speak". Something of the old swagger seemed to leach out onto Trixies face as she spoke.

"Everyone? Who else is here?" Delia felt a slight tremor run through her, a kernel of fear seeming to grow from her stomach lining.

"Oh,' Trixie waved a hand airily, 'everyone really. Babs is due here at any moment, I just text her, she went up to Liverpool to see her dad after the...' she faltered, shutters of iron seeming to close her expression, the lightness fading abruptly. 'Russians dropped a bomb on us". Delia felt the woman emotionally withdraw and grasped at a subject that could elicit some sign of the old Trixie back again from within this stranger. 

"I didn't recognise you with your new hair". She indicated rather pointless to the severe hair style so changed from the one worn the last time they spoke. Absentmindedly Trixie rubbed at the crown of her head.  
"I did it after the bomb, there was a lot of rubble and blood so I just decided, since the world had gone mad and everyone wanted to play Rambo, to look the part. Can't have anyone thinking us Brits are soft. Not anymore." Delia nodded, unsure of what to say next. 

"So Barbaras coming aswell,' her eyes took in the two other beds claimed for late arrivals, 'so who-" Her question was cut off as one of the other recruits shouted at them that they had minutes to get onto the parade ground. Without another word Trixie stepped passed Delia to scurry out of the room. 

Delia sighed and watched her go, the bobbing brown fuzz making her chest hurt as it disappeared from view. Sighing, she turned to Chummy who'd hovered on the peripherals during the exchange. Forcing her eyes not to dwell on the empty beds even as it seemed someone had poured rapidly cooling cement into her belly they both set off at a jog after the group.

The parade ground was much as they had left it. Somewhere far off a crow cawed madly while the gentle pitter patter of gun fire sounded muffled from a range. The corporal was waiting with the square jawed woman from earlier. They watched dispassionately as the group lined up in front of them. After a little bit of tussling they all settled into varying degrees of standing, some tried to attempt a more soldier like pose with their hands behind their backs, others slouching. Once they were still the pair of NCOs strolled up and down the ranks. The man broke the silence first, stood nose to nose with a woman who practically quaked under his inspection.

"Well, ladies, I think it's clear to say that your ability to form a line constituted as well organised as a vegetarian party. Completely fucking useless in fact! Lance Corporal Smith have you ever seen a more pathetic attempt at soldiering than we have this afternoon".

Smith, who was wandering behind the line, commented from somewhere to the left of Delia.  
"No Corporal, I do not believe that I have". The corporal took a step back and surveyed them,  
"Line up again, in height order, tallest to the left. NOW!" The squad broke apart and reformed hastily, the NCO's gliding into the mass of bodies, pulling people out and back to the spaces they should be in. After a few minutes the line had been correctly ensconced in height order. Predictably Chummy now stood at the far left.  
"Now,' the corporal was still bellowing,' take your right arm- Right private' he had zeroed in on a woman who'd lifted her left arm by mistake, 'I said sodding right. When I say left you lift your left if I say right you lift your right, am I asking too much of you already?" The woman stood her ground and politely responded, a broad Scottish accent colouring the tones,  
"No corporal".  
"Glad to hear it. Place your right hand in a fist' he cast a final look at the Scottish woman, 'on your neighbours shoulder, shuffle your bums until you are an arm's length apart. Go!". The squad shuffled obligingly neat spaces appearing between them as the corporal prowled along the row. "Ladies, cast your eyes to your sides. Look at your neighbours, drink their faces in, remember them. These will be the people you will stand beside throughout this process or until the British army decides that you or them are no longer welcome here. You will fall in exactly like this every time you are called onto the parade ground until I give instructions to do otherwise. Is that understood?" The squad, starting to understand what was expected of them managed a cohesive response, their voices made loud by volume.  
"Yes corporal!" The man smiled thinly at them.

"Well, that's more like it. More of that ladies in the future.' he spun crisply on his heel and marched several steps before pulling off another snappy about turn and faced them off from ten feet his voice quieter. "Here in the army you will be pushed to your limits every day. We will test you physically and mentally. I will test you. This is not because we want you to fail, this is because you are entering a world were discipline and ability to follow orders are imperative to keep people alive. The government will say in these times that anyone can be a soldier but I can promise you that I will not be passing anyone who cannot perform their tasks adequately. War is not a fucking game and anyone here with that mentality can slime off my parade ground this minute. This is your first opportunity to fuck off if you don't like it". The air whistled in their ears. No one moved, some didn't seem to even dare to breathe in the ringing silence.

"Fine. So you're here for the course... Well, we'll see. Now, on day one we like to have a little fun. It's called The Race. Five kilometres against your colleagues -" His explanations were broken off as Lance corporal Smith, who Delia hadn't noticed had disappeared, crossed the parade ground with two women following behind. Delia's chest tightened as she watched them drawing closer. She recognised the figure of Barbara at the front of the two immediately, stumbling as she pulled a carry case over uneven stones. The second woman had red hair that glinted faintly off the reflected sunlight... Delia felt herself waver in the air as she squinted furiously at the pair. Barbara looked pale but remarkably unchanged by events, her mouth was set into the same serious line she had worn when they were studying in London. The second woman was slightly wider set but the height was wrong for Patsy she realised half relieved half disappointed. Delia breathed through her noise as she took in the stranger. She really was a stranger she decided, the hair an honest to God ginger rather than a shade of red found in a bottle of nice n' easy. Her teeth jutted slightly against her bottom lip and she seemed to be quivering in excitement as she took in the squad lined up ahead of her. Barbara had noticed Trixie standing a few people down from Delia and gave a little wave towards her friend. Delia felt herself soften as she considered the two newcomers, were these the people intended for Trixie's saved beds?

"Two more recruits for you Corporal, there was an issue on the motorway according to the driver; Gilbert and Winifred." She indicated the two newcomers. The corporal huffed but stepped towards them.  
"Right, drop your stuff over there' he indicated the edge of the parade ground 'and get into the line up. Go'. There was the inevitable mess as they all shifted around to admit the two newbies, Smith and the corporal shouting obscenities at their inability to move quickly as they did so.  
Eventually they settled, Barbara next to Delia and Winifred ensconced between a woman with thick eyebrows and a lady sucking her tongue as she watched the corporal, the squad waited to hear more about the upcoming task.

"Okay' the corporals palms smacked together as he rubbed his hands together happily, '5k race ladies. The course is already marked out for you because we're so bloody lovely. The rules are very clear. You may want to stay but whether you deserve to is yet to be seen. By my count there's 21 of you here, the army requires you all to display a level of fitness. The limit for female recruits at the beginning of this endeavour is set at 30 minutes' he gave a sneer as though he considered the limit far too soft and continued brusquely, 'the starting line is where you are currently stood and the finish line is there,' he pointed to a clump of trees in the distance. 'You will shift yourselves through the route, Lance corporal Smith and myself will follow you just in case any of you were thinking about cheating- I'd let that dream wither and die. Any fat mess who crosses that line any time over that thirty minute limit will be put straight down on my shit list. Ladies, you do not want to be on my shit list I promise you. Now,' he clicked a button on his watch and looked up as though surprised that they were all still in front of him ' well, what are you waiting for? Get moving!"

The squad hesitated for a moment before breaking into a sprint. Delia felt her legs spin beneath her as she cruised from the parade ground with the pack of women. Around her she watched some full out sprint ahead of the group but did not make to follow them. Thirty minutes was achievable but not if you used everything you had in the first minute. Ahead there was a bright yellow arrow spray painted onto a board propped against the side of a building. She swept passed it hearing others begin to pant around her. They were coming up to a copse of trees, the unstable feel of loose stones beneath her trainers jarred and bit at the soles of her feet as she glided lightly down it. Her suspicions about early starters were confirmed ten minutes later when she passed two women stood at the side of the road, gasping. She heard Smith yelling at them to start running again from behind her and allowed herself a small smile; she was made for this sort of thing. Most people assumed because she was short and broad that she'd be unfit but this was a mistake; Delia had long enjoyed the feeling of adrenaline from physical exertion. After London she'd taken it further. She'd even done a few half marathons in Cardiff. Ahead of her Trixie was in the lead she saw, just a few strides from the Scottish woman and a lean athletic type with blonde hair. Trixie, with the advantage of slightly longer legs was striding forward, no fatigue appearing to affect her as her feet seemed to eat up the course. Delia maintained her lifted head position, knowing that a slump could restrict breathing and affect her rate of acceleration. Behind her the heavy panting of the others were fading away as she pulled into the center. Barbara was gone from her side, clearly struggling away with the main group. 

Ten more minutes flew by. Delia crossed a stream that was bedded with small slippy stepping stones, her feet wobbling on the unstable surface, then a hill which made her pant as she forced her legs to drag her up the steep incline, her thigh muscles clenching as she did so. The two women between her and Trixie flew behind her as she passed them. Trixie was still far in the lead, the woman running as though flogged by invisible demons. Delia skidded as she rounded a sharp corner, her trainers only just holding onto the loose road. The bright flash of the finish line burning her vision up ahead, making the world sharpen, her focus zeroing in on the tiny space.  
Trixie passed the line first, her arms extended high above her head as she slowed down. Delia followed less than a minute later. The sergeant who had split them all up when they first got off the bus was standing nearby with a clip board in hand barking out times to them as he read off the corporals watch which was balanced precariously on the top of the board.

"21 minutes, 11 seconds.' he shouted to Delia, 'stand over there next to Demi Moore titch". Delia, panting slightly as a few beads of sweat dripped from her forehead, wandered over to Trixie who was bent over, gasping and rubbing at her rib cage. A few more were stumbling down the road now, the Scot and the athlete crossed the finish next, their times under 23 minutes. They stumbled over to them cheerfully, the Scots winged glasses flashing in the sunlight. Next came a gaggle of about fifteen women surging forward down the road neck and neck, Barbara among them. All managed to make it under the time limit, lining up as they came through with cheerful shouts to their peers. That left one final recruit to finish by Delia's count. Chummy was missing. They all waited anxiously for the NCO's and the tall woman to appear. The minutes ticked by softly. Surely, the thirty minutes had been passed now Delia thought hotly, where the hell were they? The tattoo of firing guns started up again from somewhere, the air felt sticky and damp as sweat cooled on bodies. There was a faint rumble as more coaches beeped their horns from the car park.

After another ten minutes a blurred outline detached itself from the horizon and solidified into three figures. Chummy hopping slightly, arm supporting what seemed to be a limping Smith with the corporal bringing up the rear.  
"Fucking move private, shift those freakish legs a little further, a sense of urgency would be greatly appreciated. Run, run, run". The Sergeant at the line shouted out Chummy's time; 40 minutes and 53 seconds, as she passed the invisible line and bent to deposit the lance corporal gently on the grass. The squad muttered to themselves as Chummy, face burning and patches of sweat at her arm pits and chest staining her clothes darker bounded over to stand at the end of the line.

The sergeant and corporal were standing over Smith, talking quietly. The sergeant bending to his knees beside the woman and feathering his fingers at her ankle. The squad looked questioningly at Chummy who was trying to stare at the tarmac, not willing to catch the eyes of her colleagues.  
"What happened?" The Scot was the one who voiced the question but the whole group goggled down at Chummy, listening intently.  
"It was at the stream' answered Chummy in a small voice, eyes not looking away from the space in front of her, 'I slipped on one of those ghastly stones, Lance corporal Smith was beside me and I'm afraid I fell onto the poor woman. Seems she caught her ankle as she fell." The squad looked back over to Smith who was grimacing in pain as her foot was gently manipulated by her superior and then to Chummy again.

"You'll be ok Chummy, at least there's a good reason you missed the timings." Chummy looked at her big feet, clearly upset.  
"I wouldn't count my chickens yet, Corporal Small was so angry, I'm afraid I'm done for. I'm such a terrible clutz I imagine he'll want to separate the wheat from the chaff as it were."  
"You're not the chaff Chummy' Delia reassured, 'I nearly fell on those stones, accidents happen and I'm sure they'll understand that. At least you took the time to help bring her back, that'll show you're a team player". Affirmative murmurs fell around them as the squad agreed with Delia.  
"Everyone has bad days sweetie, no one's expected to be perfect on the first day". Trixie piped up, her voice low and kind.

Chummy just nodded sadly but didn't respond. She obviously wasn't convinced. Any further communication was ended as the finally named Corporal Small approached the group, face red from his shouting but otherwise seemingly unaffected by the course.  
"So, it seems most of you aren't as bad I had first thought.' the clipboard with their times rested in his hand. 'Franklin, Busby, Mannion, Keats. You all produced excellent times, I'm impressed. The rest of you, bar one,' he scowled at Chummy, 'managed to get in under the time limit. So I guess we're all going to be here for a little while longer yet, you should all be pleased. Busby, go back to the rooms and bring down the requisition form on the table at the end of your sleeping quarters. We'll have a fifteen minute breather before we go and get you all kitted up so you can start looking like proper soldiers."

Delia hesitated slightly before leaving, Small was marching over to Chummy as the group disbanded, chatting quietly to one another about the run. Chummy looked resolute but despondent and Delia wanted to stay, thinking she could offer some support if the man was beastly but a swift glance in her direction from the corporal had her scurrying back towards the barracks.

Poor Chummy, she thought to herself as she pushed through the atrium, it wasn't fair. Anyone could have slipped and fell, Smith shouldn't have been so close. Surely other people had fallen over on a run. She shook her head annoyed as she strode up the stairs two at a time. Her thoughts so full of the injustice towards her friend she failed to notice as she barreled into someone coming the other way. Hands flung out to grasp Delia's shoulder at the collision.

"Sorry."  
"Oh I'm sor-" Delia's intended apology stuttered and died on her lips as the world around her collapsed, ruminations of Chummy disappearing from her mind like mist on a hot day. The smell of bleach and spice filled her senses as she stared up at devastatingly familiar blue eyes. Red hair, long languid body. The weight of a hand blessed with pianist fingers on her shoulder pinning her where she stood as she nearly choked.

It was undeniably Patsy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo...
> 
> The stage is set, the players arranged. Let's do this. Incidentally I do apologise if anyone found the swearing offensive. My entire family (literally everyone bar myself) is army based. My brother in law to be was a sergeant who trained recruits. The first twelve weeks are meant to be brutal, the army breaks you and then builds you up again the way they want you to be. This was far more gentle than some of the stories I've heard.
> 
> Also, I'm interested to see what everyone thinks of Trixie, I wanted to physically show the trauma, still barely examined from the bombing, Trixie seemed a good candidate for this although I promise to find a way to get Trixie a bottle of hair dye eventually. She'll look like she did circa series 2, I think it was. Short and blonde.
> 
> Anyhoo, hope you enjoyed my leiblings. Comments are like wind under my crooked wings.
> 
> SB


	7. Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,-

"Sorry."  
"Oh I'm sor-" Delia's intended apology stuttered and died on her lips as the world around her collapsed, ruminations of Chummy disappearing from her mind like mist on a hot day. The smell of bleach and spice filled her senses as she stared up at devastatingly familiar blue eyes. Red hair, long languid body. The weight of a hand blessed with pianist fingers on her shoulder pinning her where she stood as she nearly choked.

It was undeniably Patsy.

-

Delia felt as though time had stopped, the world enclosing just the two of them in a tiny bubble, numbing and riveting all at the same time. They both gazed at each other; assessing, committing features to memory, comparing them to the past, assuming a thousand little things in a single glance. 

Patsy was thinner than Delia remembered, her pointed chin and cheekbones more prominent than ever giving her an even stronger aristocratic air than she had before. She was dressed causally for travel in a pair of jeans rolled up above her ankles, a striped teal shirt that hung over her belt and a battered pair of white converse on her feet. Her hair was pulled back loosely so that curls ran down at the temples. She looked rumpled and so beautiful it hurt to look. 

Delia had always loved relaxed Pats, a hundred memories of watching her in pajamas at the end of a long day her eyes heavy with sleep or bumbling along beside Delia in Regents Park invaded her mind ruthlessly. Delia glanced down at meticulously maintained hands, the nails polished and painted red; just like old times. She felt a shiver run down her as she recalled, with such clarity she almost felt the ghost of it as though it was happening again; Patsy standing behind her, stomach cleaved to her back as they oohed and ahhed with the crowd at fireworks above them. It had been bonfire night, the smell of burning wood and cooked sugar had made the air all the sweeter as they kissed beneath the stars. They'd been so happy. So so happy. 

Patsy withdrew her hand from Delia's shoulder as though it had been burned, her face cold and Delia remembered, all over again, how cold her face could be, how hard it had been the last night they'd been this close. Patsy practically spitting with bile telling Delia to leave, to go, to get out of her life. That she didn't love Delia anyway. 

Delia took a slight step back, wanting distance as she felt the sting of those words all over again hit her. Patsy's eyes flicked over her head as though expecting (hoping?) to see someone else following behind. Delia tried to smile bravely but only managed a tight sort of grimace.

"Patience." Patsy raised her eyebrow at the formal use of her full name but didn't bite the bait.  
"Delia. You look well." Formal, frigid. Delia felt a little piece of her crumble inside at the tone while the logical part of her nodded in satisfaction. Formal and frigid was good, Delia could deal with that. 

"I was just getting some forms for the corporal." Just do the bare bones of conversation she told herself firmly, annoyed at her need to justify her place here. Patsy smirked, a stunted version of the smile she had used to give Delia and lifted her chin a fraction higher.  
"Still a teachers pet then?" Delia felt her face grow red. So what, she'd been a bit of a geek when she'd first arrived in London; the Welsh bumpkin rubbing shoulders with posh English women from money and privilege. She'd been anxious to prove herself and it had come across as a bit desperate until she'd calmed down. Damn Patsy for remembering that fact.

"No, I was just picked at random.' Delia willed her voice to sound light and unaffected as they stared each other down. 'I must get on though or he'll have my hide. He's a bit of a terror I'm afraid. You'll probably like him though, birds of a feather and all that". She let her own barb hit the air and hid a smirk when it met its mark.

Patsy openly glared at her now, her back stiffening.  
"Well, I'll be sure to keep that in mind when I see him for myself. Thank-you for the heads up but I'd better get going. Can't waste too much time on you, after all, I don't want to be in trouble on my first day now do I?" Delia gave a non committal shrug in response, as though Patsy's movements were of little consequence to her. Patsy sniffed slightly, still scowling, and stepped passed Delia, their shoulders brushing in the tight space.

Delia was hit with a fresh wave of bleach as Patsy walked away and forced herself to stay where she was, refusing to look around and watch her go, until the sound of feet on tiles had faded away to nothing. Only once she was certain she wouldn't be over heard did Delia allow herself to stagger into the dormitory, her legs seeming to be made from jelly all of a sudden. Shit, shit, shit. 

She'd been preparing herself for this since she'd recognised Trixie, hsd known its probability but still, it was a shock to find herself in front of someone she'd been so messed up about for years. Shit, fuck, piss. Patsy was here.

And she looks good. Added the unhelpful secret voice in the back of her head in a leer.

Delia considered leaving fleetingly as she collapsed onto a mattress just through the door, her head sinking down to prop against her knees. She could just walk past the gate and wait for a bus on the high street. The twenty pound note from her dad was still crumpled up in her zip pocket... She could just get away now, she'd seen Patsy, they'd had a conversation, it could only get more awkward from there and honestly, who would notice, just a woman from her past who wouldn't care. 

Delia sniffed, trying not to think too hard about that statement, forcing her mind carry on the tangent, not wanting to linger in the wallowing depths of Patsy and what she meant. Trixie might notice her departure, but then again, what would it be to Trixie if an old colleague dissappeared on day one? It's not like she didn't seem to be battling enough of her own demons at the moment. God this was going to be a mess... Not to mention the complications that would arise simply because Delia had no idea what the others knew. Or how much. They'd always been very careful not to reveal their relationship to them while they were together. Patsy had insisted on it, terrified of their judgement; it had been the cause of so many fights near the end. 

The thought of what Patsy would think of Delia if she were to dissappear from the grounds, from the training, as soon as they'd seen each other made Delia's breathing even out slightly. Patsy would be so bloody smug about it Delia thought savagely. So arrogantly aware that she'd won, that yet again she'd got rid of Delia and probably even more delighted by the fact she didn't have to even waste her breath by telling her to go this time round.

Delia rocked slightly as she considered this, biting her lip apprehensively. No, Patsy wouldn't send her away this time, they were both here for the same reason but here atleast they were finally equals. Delia would not allow the womans presence to prevent her from completing the training. Why should she? Patsy might be in the squad but that didn't mean they had to spend any sort of quality time together, the others would always be around and Patsy would never dare to bring up their history around them. And anyway, she told herself bracingly, they were both adults weren't they? They were both mature women, nurses for goodness sake; they could be civil... Delia took a few cleansing breaths, decided for now.

She spotted the paperwork stacked neatly on an empty bedside table and grabbed it, aware she'd probably taken longer than expected and turned back to the stairs as she went. She told herself sternly the tremor in her hand was an after effect of the race and nothing to do with the faint smell of Patsys perfume as she retraced her steps. A siren calling her ever onwards along the path of destruction.

Patsy was standing with Barbara and Trixie at the edge of the square when Delia got back to the parade ground. Most of the squad were sitting on the grass beyond the tarmac, chatting quietly to one another, faces intent. Chummy was sat on her own looking glum, her fingers idly pulling up blades of glass. Refusing to look over at Patsy Delia walked over to Corporal Small and handed over the requested documents, to her surprise he accepted the proffered paper without comment.

The squad was quickly called up and instructed to fall in as soon as the man had scanned the sheet. Patsy was slotted in next to Chummy, her height making her second tallest in the squad; Delia had never been more thankful of her short Busby genes as she watched the red head pulled into the spot assigned to her. She listened intently as they were each given a number and then managed to turn the right way when the order was shouted (a few went to peices completely and banged into each other as they faced the wrong direction to their neighbours). 

Once everyone had listened to a blissfully short lecture on left and right, the Scot had been one of the ones who'd turned incorrectly, they were walked off the parade ground in single file to the quarter masters store a little way up the road. There was a small attempt by the squad to try to synchronise their steps which failed epically, mainly because Chummy kept coming in too late or too early on the step.

The quartermasters store was a squat little building set a little away from the main cluster of buildings. There was a metal grill with a wide gap in the center waiting for them at the door of it. The quartermaster himself was a fat man in his fifties with red piggy intelligent eyes and a look so calculating it made you sure everything about you had been weighed, valued and discarded in one sweeping glance. They were called up one by one to collect their new clothes, the man grinning nastily as he threw the items pell mell into their waiting hands, seemingly amused if anything wasn't caught immediately.

They waited, still in silence as they each received their bounty, it was a tall list;  
One pair of boots (Leather, black)  
Three pairs of socks so thick they could have been weaved for a hockey player (Green)  
Two pairs of everyday combat trousers (The legs were heavy with the amount of pockets sewn into them)  
One set of dress trousers (the front seam so crisp and sharp the corporal probably made them shave with it if they were men)  
Two vests  
Two shirts, (the material thick and heavy and reminded one of denim worn by popstars in the nineties)  
One dress shirt (vanish was going to need to be on the shopping list)  
One pullover fleece (Green and warm)  
One light weight jacket (quite what they were going to put in all these pockets remained a mystery)  
One heavy weight wax lined jacket (Delia at least as a Welsh woman could appreciate a good rain jacket when she saw it)  
One pair of gloves (The finger and palm pads lined with leather)  
Two hats; one woollen, one wide brimmed to keep the sun off  
One beret (sans cap badge, they'd only get them after passing out)  
One compass  
One pen knife  
Two PT kits (shorts and a polo shirt)  
One bed sheet (Green)  
One duvet (Green)  
One duvet cover (Green)  
One pillow with slip (Delia could sense green was going to become her least favourite colour as time wore on)  
One mess can (she made a mental note to weave this revelation into the next phone call to her mother)  
Cutlery and a cup made from a thin beaten metal.

Delia took her pile with some difficulty, the height of it extending well past her face and stepped back into place as Barbara stepped forward to receive hers. Once they were all weighted down with their new kit they were turned about face once again (everyone managing to do it correctly this time) and they stepped off cleanly back to the dorms. The walk back seemed to take longer than the trip there, dusk set in as they were forced to stop several times to wait when a few unfortunates dropped things to the Corporals very clearly expressed displeasure.

The rest of the evening seemed to blur into mundane repetitive lessons. They were given minutes to deposit their new equipment onto their beds before being rounded up once more and forced to stand for what felt like hours in a huddle as every item of clothing was explained and attached with a specific way to maintain it. Delia watched with glazed eyes as they were warned of the consequences if they were observed wearing their clothes creased. Then, from a neatly presented cupboard a white clothed ironing board was unfolded and they were all instructed in minute detail on the delights of ironing and how all the items should be folded to prevent the uniform hanging untidily on a shelf.

Surprisingly, when they had been instructed to pack their things away in their wardrobes at the end of the lessons Chummys was the one given special praise for the way everything was placed. Delia shot her a confused look but was forced to wait until the corporal was finished and had dismissed them half an hour later for an explanation.

"Oh, us borders had to have everything just so or Mistress Pelmet would pitch an absolute fit. She was ex navy you know and a frightful one when her dander was raised. Sarah Graham Finely nee Rothersthorpe told us she once witnessed her strike a girl with a tennis racket when she left the hockey sticks topsy turvy in the games cupboard." Delia laughed despite herself, imagining Chummy as a teenager preparing from spot checks from a feral PE teacher. Chummy gave an answering titter and they looked around at the room which had emptied as though a bomb had been let off somewhere, the others desperate for dinner. The corridor outside rattled with the noise of twenty mess cans and tin mugs banging together.

"What happened with Small Chummy? Was he horrible to you?" Delia asked the woman, certain the others wouldn't be able to over hear. Chummy, ever the cause of surprise, smiled broadly and reached to pat Delia's hand reassuringly.  
"Oh that, he was a sweet old lamb really, he told me to be pleased I helped carry Lance Corporal Smith. Apparently,' Chummy broke off to check they were totally alone as she dropped her voice conspiratorialy, 'he did something just as ghastly his first day. He said he would keep an eye out for me but expected I'd quite slide into the life with a bit of polishing. It was absolutely one of the kindest things I've ever heard. Honestly Delia, I think this army lark is going to be such fun". Delia nodded, taken aback, not quite able to fit the angry little corporal into the vision Chummy was portraying but nonetheless relieved that there appeared to be no looming threat to her only neutral friend in this strange new world.

Her stomach broke the silence with a loud grumble, her mothers full Welsh having been a rather long time ago and Delia never dealt well with missing meals. She reached into her wardrobe and grinned sheepishly at Chummy.  
"Shall we go and eat, I'm absolutely starving." Chummy nodded appreciatively grabbing her own. They chatted about the incident at the stream, "poor thing was quite squished under the weight of my bosoms" as they trundled down to the sprawling expanse of the mess hall which was a riot of sound as people queued up for their meals.

Men and women were allowed to fratenise in here and already a few sneaky flirtations were springing up between the odd recruits. Delia spotted the old London lot ensconced at the end of a long table near a window. They were sipping tea and joining in with the others jokes, Trixie finally looking somewhat relaxed in her friends company.

The queue bumbled along quickly as people hurriedly called out their choices to a line of ten soldiers from the catering core. Delia, curious to see what they would be fed, was surprised to find great piles of what could be only labelled junk food in vast serving platters, thick chips, burgers, chicken drum sticks, chocolate pudding in plastic single savings. She loaded her tin to the hilt, her stomach rumbling ever louder, demanding to be filled.

She tarried slightly as she waited for Chummy to finish her turn. Intending to sit at the closest table away from her erstwhile ex but the plans were scuppered as quick as they were laid when Chummy strolled passed her, calling out loudly to the others and heaved herself onto the bench with the others. Delia watched her go with some regret, thinking she could still sit alone somewhere quietly until Barbara stood up at the table and began ushering her over cheerfully, clearly alerted to her presence by Chummy. 

Delia stood at the edge of the table, her fingers digging into the plastic of her tray as she watched the others smile up at her expectantly. Well, nearly everyone, Patsy was staring down at her tin with every sign of being absorbed in it. 

"Don't just stand there Delia, pull up a space" called Trixie in a determined sort of tone. Casting a final glance at Patsy who was still staring at the table Delia allowed herself to be squeezed in beside Barbara into the space made for her.

"Patsy was just wondering where on earth you'd been all this time." Trixie asked, winking conspiratorially at Delia as though continuing a conversation they'd all just been having. Delia glanced over at the red head whos ears had flushed slightly.  
"Trixie was wondering, I just got sucked in" Was her rather cryptic reply.  
"Well, you really are a dark horse Delia, it's been nearly four years or so since you disappeared." remonstrated Trixie.  
"Six" said Delia and Patsy in unison and the both of them looked away from each other, embarrassed. Trixie clicked her tongue impatiently as Babarba smiled.

"Six years! Gosh has it really been so long and still I'm not a day under 28" carried on Trixie cheekily.  
"Not much has changed though, they're still finishing each others sentences" called Barbara as she piled a rather large mouthful of chips into her mouth. Trixie giggled and Patsy coughed loudly.  
"So you're all past cormades in arms then ladies" asked Chummy, looking at them each in turn.  
"Oh yes, we're all alumni of the London teaching hospital class of 08' Trixie lightly tapped her chest with a clenched fist and Chummy beamed over at Delia.

"What fun Delia. You should have told me you were meeting so many old school chums." Delia shrugged and ate another forkful of food before answering;  
"I didn't know, I've been away from London."  
"Yes, we know that but where silly, Patsy cut quite the lonely figure without her side kick once you went, we're all dying to know" admonished Barbara still managing to pile food into her mouth at quite an alarming rate. 

Patsy finally looked up from her food at this and frowned.  
"Honestly, Babs, I wasn't that bad, you're all making me sound like quite the desperado. Delia decided to leave, we should respect that." Delias insides turned cold, as though someone had released the stopper on the cold tap. Delia didn't decide anything! Delia was told very clearly that she needed to leave.

"I went back to Pembrokeshire Babs, my mam and da are getting on a bit and they wanted me closer to home. I'd finished my training and a few things I was sort of banking on fell through suddenly so I decided it was the right time to get back up there." Delia directed her words at Barbaras honest face but knew Patsy was listening intently as her fork scraped loudly on the metal bottom of her tin.

"Pembrokeshire? You hated Wales" Barbara had made as though to reply but it was Patsy who'd spoken first, her voice sharp. Accusing.

Delia took a deep breath and raised her head to look directly into Patsy's eyes. It hurt to look at them, how many nights had they been her only anchor in the world. The echo of Patsy's final diatribe, "I don't love you anyway" hit her again and she schooled her features into a cold mask.  
"I love Wales Patience, the people are lovely and friendly. House prices are lower, I actually managed to buy a flat in Pembrokeshire, can you imagine that? And anyway its not like I had much to keep me in London anymore was it?" Patsy scowled again, the lines building at the bridge of her nose.  
"Still, running away Delia, that never seemed your style". Delia wanted to wrap her tray around the red heads head, Patsy knew full well why she'd gone. 

"Yeah well there's all sort of things you didn't know about me then isn't there Patsy". Patsy nodded her head slightly as though acknowledging the statement.  
"Clearly". 

They stared at each other, both angry but unsure how to carry on the discussion. They were saved by a pointed cough from Trixie that made them both jump, they'd forgotten the others. Chummy and Barbara were looking at Patsy and Delia confused at why their friends seemed so hostile. Trixie was glaring at Patsy.

Delia cleared her voice throatily and tried to smile.  
"Anyway, what about you lot? Are you head sister yet Trix, maybe ward manager." Change the subject now screamed her brain.  
"Oh I'll have to wait for Phyllis to retire before I get another foot on the ladder and you know what she's like... even a bomb couldn't stop her". The group laughed at the joke except for Patsy who stood up abruptly at her bench, the knuckles on her tray white.  
"I'm dying for a smoke, sorry ladies I just don't think I can wait a minute longer". She announced in a clipped voice even as she left the table quickly, practically throwing her tray onto the waiting racks in her haste to get away. 

They watched her go, Barbara and Trixie looking awkward and Chummy confused.  
"I say, is she alright, she seems a tad highly strung." Asked Chummy sounding concerned. Barbara sighed,  
"No that's just Pats,' she looked up to peak at Delia through her lashes quickly, 'you're not really seeing her at her best I'm afraid. Shes been a bit of a misery guts ever since you left Delia truth be told. I think she misses you." It was Trixie turn to make them stop and look over at her this time, standing up unexpectedly with slumped shoulders and an exasperated air of a woman who'd run a marathon and was still expected to take out the rubbish at the end of the day.  
"I think that I need a smoke too, I'll see you lot later. Chummy, it's been lovely meeting you, I can see we're all going to be great friends. 

The bench scraped loudly on the floor as she removed herself from the table and followed Patsy's trail. Delia kept her eyes on her food, her thoughts dwelling on Patsy's unfounded accusation and Babarbas comments as Barbara and Chummy went on a tangent about Tom, the cleric Barbara was seeing. She let her brain unfocus from the conversation as Barbara told them about a baby Tom had christened before the mother unofficially adopted it out. Chummy filled in the gaps of conversation beautifully with dramatic gasps so Delia was free to stay silent. Pondering...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides behind hands*
> 
> Is it OK? They could hardly work through anything straight away. Its a slow burn peoples, hope no ones getting too frustrated.
> 
> SB


	8. The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;

The next morning did not dawn peaceful and sweet. As it happened, it was hardly dawn at all when the dormitory, which had previously been filled with the soft sounds of snores and deep breathing, exploded into a cacophony of loud shouts and calls of;

"Get up! Wake your sleepy little eyeballs." and "On with socks and hands off-well you little fairies wouldn't know what to do with a cock if you tried". Beds were kicked and mattresses were slid out of frames; their inhabitants rudely flung to the floor as the NCO's made their noisy way up the room.

"You little greenies have got ten fucking minutes to be dressed to the standards we discussed last night, beds made and out on that parade ground or this whole fucking squad will find themselves learning the subtle joys of cutting the sports pitches with nail scissors. Move! Move! Fucking shift yourselves privates!"

Those who had been lucky enough not to be deposited onto the floor during the mornings antics sprang up into varying shades of wakefulness. Delia and Chummy half collided as they fell out on the same side of the bed. From everywhere there came the muffled sounds of twenty women hurrying to their tasks, all of them taking care not to grumble loud enough to draw any errant corporal's keen ear in the process. 

Delia, barely getting a second to rub the sleep from her eyes, scrabbled at the door to her wardrobe and began dragging off her pyjama top before hazily remembering she'd need a bra on today. Cursing, she stumbled to the edge of her bed and unhooked it from where it was wedged around the metal bars of the foot board. Hands twitching she pulled the straps up her arm and fumbled with the clasps at the front under her boobs to save faff time before swivelling it to face the right way as she kicked her boots out from underneath the bed. 

Hurriedly, still reaching behind her for her shirt, she scanned her surroundings to see how far the others had got. Trixie was trying to simultaneously tug on a pair of socks and brush her teeth, her face shockingly bare of its usual make-up which made her look about twelve and pale as hell. Barbara, still half asleep, had managed gods knew how to wedge her head into the arm of her shirt and was currently trying to untangle strands of hair from around the buttons of her cuff and making a right pigs ear of it as she did so. Chummy was displaying her familiarity in this communal living arrangement and had rather practically stripped off to her skin and was currently bending over to reach into her wardrobe. Delia shut her eyes at the vision but thought it would take quite a long time to remove the memory of the unfortunate image which seemed to have unhelpfully burnt its way into the inner skin of her eye lids and shivered coldly. 

She began to fasten the buttons of her heavy shirt, holding the loose fabric away from her body as she turned her head hesitantly to scan the final inhabitant of their shared space. Patsy was just over the way and... Delia caught herself stilling as she turned her head to take in the situation before her. The red head was also half dressed, her shirt miraculously already fastened and combat trousers in hand but that was not what had made Delia stop. No, what made Delia stop was the realisation that Patsy had been very clearly eyeing her up. Involuntarily she felt a blush start up somewhere around her neck as she caught Patsy's face. Patsy, clearly caught red handed gave a lop sided sort of shrug as if to say 'well, yes maybe I was looking' and then twisted to drag her trousers over her feet, the movement taking her expression from view. Delia fidgeted slightly, unsure how long Patsy had been watching and not completely certain how she felt about being viewed like that.

She somehow finished the buttons and placed the thoughts to the back of her mind as she reached blindly for her trousers, managing not to catch skin as she tugged up the zipper and squeezed her feet into the boots which felt tight and pinched her little toes when she stood up in them. She finished the process by sweeping her hair into a tight bun and ramming her beret solidly over her tingling scalp to hide the messy wisps that would inevitably be sticking up on her head.

Delia considered the queue at the door to the bathroom as she finished but decided against it and ran through the door to their dormitory, taking the stairs recklessly two at a time. The corridor and atrium passed by her eyes like a grey blur until she managed to slide into her spot on the parade ground several minutes before the Corporal began tapping his watch and counting down the seconds. Boots squeaked on the floor as others trampled into view and fell into their own spots. 

Somehow the entire squad managed to complete the task, chests heaving as they let their hot breath mingle in the cold air around their faces. Corporal Small surveyed them from his position in front of a one man podium that had been set up at some point during the night at the edge of the square. Delia watched him shrewdly, guessing the man would let the tension build before giving them an idea why he'd felt the need to pull them from their beds so early in the day. She was not disappointed, the squad twitched as the minutes ticked away. It was nearly five minutes before the Corporal allowed the moment to fade. He walked slowly, the click of a metal plate on his heel echoing in the quiet of the morning.

"Some of you may be wondering why this is happening to you. You might be letting yourself feel pity for how the mean soldier made you wake up early, am I on the right track ladies?" The squad in unison responded crisply with a resounding;

"No corporal!" which made the man's lips twitch.

"Oh, so you liked my alarm system then?"

"Yes corporal!" The man smirked and swaggered over to Trixie addressing her lazily,

"How about you butch, are you happy with the way you woke up today?"

"Positively ecstatic Corporal" was Trixie's dry response. The corporal's smirk deepened.

"Well in that case we can do it every day if you like...' he faced a woman with thick eyebrows now, 'would you like that private?" The woman hesitated fractionally before replying, dishonesty ringing heavily on her tongue. 

"Sounds good to me Corporal". The man laughed loudly, his head thrown back.

"You lot lie like a cheap NAFI watch, I fucking love it.' shaking his eyes he returned his tone immediately to its usual bark, ' now, this afternoon the camp major is going to address you bunch of Lizards. This meeting is important, each one of you will be expected to march onto this parade ground when called, step out of ranks to meet the officer, return to your spot and march off again once the meeting is finished. In light of this development I have decided to introduce you into the soldiers standby of marching bright and early. It is my desire that not one of you spunk gargling thunder cunts let me down. You are my squad, if you fuck this up then it will mean that I have fucked up. Ladies, I do not ever fuck up on parade and none of you will either. With this in mind I want you all to take your neighbour and stand in pairs. Now!"

And so it went on... and on... and on. They were marched in tight squares, Barbara paired off with Delia as they repeated the steps indicated to them. The air was thick with the noise of many heavy boots crashing into the gravel and the cries of women calling out their movements. "About turn", "Stand easy!". The corporal prowled at the edges, shouting at anyone who wavered. Patsy, who was practising with Chummy seemed to have the rawest deal of them all as Chummy struggled to make the moves seamless. Delia watched her grow more and more exasperated with the posh woman as her feet were repeatedly stamped on. 

When the sun was well up they were called to an abrupt stop. The rattle of other squads waking up mingled in the air and Delia spied heads poking out of other dormitory windows as they formed back into their lines, knees and ankles aching from the repetitive banging of feet on hard ground. The corporal sucked his teeth as he scanned their tired faces.

"Well done, I'm proud of you. You might hear a few jokes at your expense but I'll be damned if we won't be the best squad this afternoon. That will count for something. Go and get some brekkie, you've got half an hour and then reform in classroom 6".

Relieved, the squad turned on their heel and marched a few steps before breaking apart, muttering exhaustedly to one another. Delia caught up with the others quickly, interrupting Chummy apologising to Patsy about her sore toes. Patsy was smiling up at Chummy and shrugged,

"It's alright, I'm just thankful for the padded socks. It's probably why they're so thick I suppose." Delia and the others walked slowly to the cafeteria and picked up trays, letting them rest on the metal bars as they were swept up the line. Breakfast was a full English, they all loaded their tins with sausage, eggs, bacon, toast and beans. At the table they all ate enthusiastically, unwilling to speak until they'd consumed enough to curb their immediate hunger. It was Chummy who spoke first, wiping a trace of egg delicately from her mouth while managing to drop a crumb of toast onto her collar.

"Well, I don't know about you girls but I am absolutely pooped and it's only nine o clock'. Barbara nodded firmly and gave a nervous sort of twitch.

"You don't think he'll really wake us up like that every day do you? I don't think I can go through that every morning, I'll die" The rest of them gave shrugs in answer, unsure what the corporal had in mind.

"I doubt it Babs, the man probably likes his sleep as much as we do, I imagine it's just his way of asserting authority." answered Patsy as she cut up a particularly tough bit of fat from her bacon.

"Well I certainly won't be continuing on like this. I'm sure I look a total fright right now, I haven't a stick of make up on you know, I feel naked" came Trixie's trilling complaint as she twirled a piece of sausage on the prongs of her fork despondently. The others laughed at her displeasure; she really did look odd, her skin translucent without layers of foundation and blusher.

"I shouldn't worry old bean, you still look positively stunning compared to the rest of us' assured Chummy bracingly, 'we were never allowed make up in school until one reached the upper forms. Of course, some of the girls tried to get past mistress Heckity but the woman really was a bally sort, she'd have anyone caught up in her office quick as a wink with a stern tongue lashing in mind." Trixie giggled in response and replied insolently,

"I'll bet that wasn't the only tongue lashing going on, didn't you say it was an all girls school". Delia studiously tried to not look directly at Patsy as the two of them continued to banter, Chummy not quite seeming to grasp the joke.

"You went to a girls boarding school didn't you Pats? You and Chummy probably have a lot of shared experiences." Asked Barbara mischievously, Patsy levelled an unimpressed smile to her teasing friend and sipped her tea delicately as she addressed the group.

"I went to a catholic boarding school' she stressed the denomination heavily, 'no tongue lashings occurred anywhere near the place I assure you, the nuns would have pitched an absolute fit" she added a touch wistfully, her eyes flicking to Delia quickly making Delia flush as she remembered a few incidents Patsy had displayed a definite proficiency in the task she now denied experience of.

The group disbanded as they broke apart to their separate tasks. Trixie to fix her make-up, Patsy for a cigarette, Barbara to ring her boyfriend and Chummy to begin a letter to her mother. Delia headed towards the toilets, half bent with her full bladder. The toilet block was quiet as she approached it. Her experience of public toilets made her wary but her fears were quickly squashed as she took in the immaculately kept facilities, the bowl shining as though scrubbed by toothbrushes. She snorted to herself at the thought, they probably were at that. 

After completing her ablutions, her bladder had been near bursting she stepped out of the cubicles to wash her hands at one of the sinks. Behind her the door creaked faintly to admit another patron and Delia looked up at the mirror absentmindedly to see the newcomer, the flash of red there giving her just enough time to prepare herself as Patsy rounded the corner hesitantly. 

Delia watched as her eyes looked at the empty cubicles as though checking to see if they were alone. Delia reached to grasp the cold metal of the tap and twisted it off before ripping off a few sheets of paper from the dispenser to dry her hands. Patsy had made no move to enter a toilet and was standing in front of the door the expression on her face resolute. Delia sighed as she threw the used towels into a grey bin wedged between the sinks and turned to meet the woman.

Patsy was biting her lip, head tilted in the way that Delia recalled she would when she was building up to talking about something difficult. She let herself settle against the porcelain of the sink, arms crossed over her chest protectively, not sure if this was going to be an enjoyable conversation.

"I thought we should have a chat on our own, away from the others, since we're both going to be spending time together for the foreseeable future." Patsy's voice was nervous but she'd clearly given what she wanted to say some thought. Delia rubbed her tongue on the roof of her mouth, her jaw wriggling as she did so.

"Okay..." Delia wasn't entirely sure what to say, what was left to say or how big a conversation this would be. How deep did Patsy intend to go with this?

"So, I was thinking since we're going to have to work together we should set out a few ground rules" Patsy hesitated, fingers twiddling as they were so often want to do.

"Ground rules?' Delia considered the word, 'that seems fair, do you have any in mind?" Polite, distant. Adult. She could do this she told herself sternly.

"Well, I was thinking for a start we should refrain from mentioning we were a thing, I'm pretty sure Trixie suspects, I'll admit I was a bit of wreck when I realised you'd gone but Barbara hasn't got a clue and I don't really know Chummy well enough to air our dirty laundry around a stranger." Delia nodded, understanding but hating how well she could have guessed Patsy's first condition.

"That's fine by me, I don't exactly need a load of questions levelled my way, this place is rough enough as it is without digging up the past." Patsy hesitated, head still cocked.

"Yes, I thought you would agree with me."

"Anything else?" Delia's question was apprehensive unsure if Patsy would have more topics she wanted Delia to stay away from besides the obvious.

"Just one more thing... I think we should take a moment to clear the air, at least I think I need to. I just need to know Delia. I just need to know one thing, do you mind?" Delia nodded slowly, already regretting her agreement as she waited. Patsy was looking at her fingers, her lip caught by her front teeth as she hesitated for a moment before pressing on.

"I just need to know why... why did you leave like that. Six years? Not one word, have you got any idea how worried I was, how scared I was. After everything I'd been through with Faith you left me with nothing. You could have been dead in the river for all I knew. How could you do that to me Delia? After everything, four years together and I didn't even get a goodbye." Delia rocked on her heels, the familiar tingle of anger flooding her and making the vein in her temple throb hotly.

"Why? Why did I leave Patsy? I would have thought you, out of everyone, would already know the answer to that. As I recall you told me to leave, that night I came to your flat if you remember, you told me to go, you told me you didn't want there to be an us anymore. I did as you asked, I followed your request, to the letter. What about that confuses you?" Patsy bit her lip harder, upset but pissed, her chin lifting as it had done in the days at the end of their relationship. Always beautiful, always spoiling for a fight.

"That! That was why you left? For God's sake! I was drunk Delia, I didn't mean it. You must have known-"

"No Pats you were honest. You were more honest that night than you'd been with me for months. You were so wrapped up in grief for Faith that you pushed me away time after time and I let you, I thought I was helping the only way I could but now I know that was a mistake, there wasn't room for me in your life anymore. That night you were finally honest with me, you made me see the truth of it. So I left. I did as I was told."

"And when have you ever done as you were told Delia. You walked out on me when I needed you!"

"You didn't need me that night, you hadn't needed me in the way you should have done for months and Patsy, the thing you don't understand is that in all that time of you pushing me away and fighting me I needed you too. But you never saw that, you never saw me. I didn't see any other choices open to me." Delia felt a headache begin in earnest as emotions swirled in her body, really it was exhausting loving and hating this woman. Patsy sagged, her eyes suddenly shining as she sniffed.

"I did need you. We weren't done. I wasn't done and you just left me... You really hurt me Deel's." Delia forced herself to harden, hating herself for the rush of pleasure at the sound of her nickname on Patsy's tongue and trying to stop the water burning through her tearducts from escaping and showing her weakness. 

"Well, right back at you Pat's, I didn't exactly skip my way down to Pembrokeshire you know. It's not like you couldn't have come and found me if you were so distraught' Delia refused to remember how often she'd hoped for the sight of Patsy at her parents door, calling her name and demanding she return to her in those early dark days after London, 'you let me go and I don't believe you were as messed up as you say. You certainly didn't waste time fucking your way through the nurses on the next corridor. 

Phyllis told me in much cleaner terms I'll warrant you but still, you don't get to try and make me feel guilty about protecting myself. You don't get to demand apologies for me, as far as I'm concerned you ended it, you destroyed us and if you're not happy with the way things turned out then I can't help you. Life is what it is, you can't go back and you don't get to make me feel like a bitch for doing the only thing I could to make it better for myself". Even if it hadn't been better, even if it had been a dead sort of existence without Patsy, even if she still dreamt about her. Patsy did not need to know any of it, she didn't have the right anymore.

"I should go, we'll be late for class". Delia walked up to Patsy who was still blocking the door. Patsy eyed her harshly;

"So this is how you want to leave it?" The question made Delia's heart race, the hurt in Patsy's face making her hurt more than she was prepared to deal with at the minute.

"Yep, this is how I want it." Delia's tone brooked no argument, her heart thudding at how close they were, how solid Patsy looked framed in the door. Patsy breathed though her mouth, her head dipping so they were nose to nose, the smell of spearmint toothpaste breezed across Delia's face, her eyes hard, her hands shaking.

"Fine. Go then". She shifted out of the way and Delia stormed past her into the fresh air. Anger rolling off her in waves.

The classroom was empty when she got there but she didn't have to wait long for Chummy to enter, going on brightly about her letter and her mother's insistence she try to bag a lieutenant after training. Delia tried to join in but her heart wasn't in it and Chummy, appearing to read this in her voice gave her a quizzical look.

"Everything ok old bean?" Delia locked eyes with the concerned woman, wanting nothing more than to vent her frustrations about Patsy but aware that she'd already agreed not to do so. Shaking her head she fobbed the woman off, citing tiredness from the mornings exploits. Chummy nodded understandingly and suggested they try for an early night after dinner to which Delia thankfully agreed with, glad for the woman's ability to not pry into subjects that were uncomfortable.

Delia and the rest of them settled in and listened attentively as the class was taken. She made certain to take notes carefully, focusing on making her handwriting neat rather than the black cloud that was Patsy at the end of the row who sat with a scowl throughout the lesson, her face occasionally turning to stare down the line pointedly although Delia refused to acknowledge the silent accusations. Delia tried to pay attention as they were all tutored on the correct hierarchy in the British army and how each rank should be greeted; whether a salute was necessary or not and how each position could be distinguished from the symbols on their owners uniforms.

They broke apart around twelve, all given clear instructions to make themselves neat for their meeting with the major later that afternoon. Delia allowed Trixie to titivate around her as she applied rouge and mascara to Delia's face exclaiming that rules and regs were one thing but everyone should look their best when meeting an officer. Delia shuck off her kit at Chummy's suggestion to the group and gave it another going over with the iron, the familiar task calming her somewhat and acting as a distraction for her from the sight of Patsy in her shirt and knickers walking around her bed waiting for her turn at the ironing station.

As quick as they had come upstairs they were being shouted down them again and lined up on the parade ground. The major was a surprisingly kind looking man in his mid thirties, his waist inching close to the description of chubby. Major Peter Noakes was a popular man in his rank as one of the rare few who'd managed to get in from university on merit rather than because of family titles or money. He stood at the podium and watched benignly as the squad filed before him, boots crashing to the earth in perfect timings. One by one, as warned, they were called up to him. The corporal whispering their names as they approached. He spoke only a few words to each of them, mainly welcoming or a flyaway comment to commend them on a particularly well executed salute or halt. 

It was all going well, even the corporal looked pleased until it was Chummy's turn. The woman seemed to be doing fine until it came to the halt. They were meant to walk until they reached the left step, raise their left leg parallel to ground, bring the right foot straight and then land the left foot down heavily before placing arms, hands clenched with thumbs straight along the middle knuckle on the index finger, tightly into the sides. 

Chummy stuttered, appearing to mess up which foot should be raised and managing a spectacular sort of summersault where she somehow managed to knock the waiting major to the floor in a scissoring movement. Major and private tumbled to the floor as the squad gasped, all eyes wincing as they turned to take in the corporal.

Small was standing beside the incident, mouth slack as though in shock. He managed to shake himself to lift the dirtied major to his feet but his face was turning purple with rage as he turned to curse at Chummy, his fists shook and Delia worried he might actually strike out at the woman.

"Get back into ranks Private, you are a disgrace to your uniform you useless, stupid-"

"That'll do corporal' admonished the Major bracingly, 'everyone has their moments, as I recall you yourself managed to lose your trousers half way through your first parade' the corporal turned red with embarrassment as the squad swapped gleeful glances at one another. 'What was your name private, it's all quite alright, no harm done". Chummy, face glowing took a hesitant step back towards the officer and answered quietly,

"Private Fortescue-Cholmeley-Browne sir, terribly sorry for my actions sir." The man smiled dazedly although that could be the beginnings of a concussion Delia thought and nodded for her to return to the ranks.

"You've done an excellent job here corporal, I expect to see all of these recruits here at my next inspection". The corporal nodded, his head bobbing like a puppet with its strings cut and the squad was quickly marched away, Small clearly terrified something else might go wrong.

The rest of the day passed without incident. Chummy was given special awards for hilarious cock ups by the squad to her blushing protestations.  
"He did seem an awfully lovely sort of man, Major Noakes I mean' was all she'd say when Delia managed to get her alone.

That night the squad all turned in early, exhausted from their early morning and desperate for some rest. As tired as she was though it seemed to take a long time for Delia to drop off, her head swimming with all the things she wished she'd said to Patsy in the toilets.

Eventually, she managed a light sort of sleep, waking suddenly every twenty minutes or so. If she'd been less wrapped up in her thoughts though she might have noticed that Patsy's light snores were also missing in the symphony of night noises. The red head, it seemed, was finding sleep just as hard to come by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo,
> 
> So far today I've been punched (a glancing blow thankfully), been spat at (not quite as glancing as I'd have liked sadly) cooked dinner and uploaded two chapters. Theres no stopping this banana!
> 
> I'll double check this for mistakes tomorrow but there wont be any updates until thursday now. My mothers coming round to help plan my wedding tomorrow night!
> 
> Anyhoo, enjoy and I hope you like reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it and I'm sorry if it comes across as rushed. Cheerio, pip pip and all that...
> 
>  
> 
> PS: the Corporals insults came from a list sent to me by my brother in law to be, a creative soul is putting it lightly, some I don't think I could ever publish alas lol  
> SB


	9. And Bugles calling them from sad shires.

The next four weeks flew by in a flurry of frenzied activity, the days blurring together and stacking in the minds of the trainees collective memory like one great looming block of routine and shouting. The corporal, despite Patsy's assumptions that he must enjoy sleep as much as them, became their personal devil. The man seemed to be possessed with a never ending fire in his belly; always on the peripherals, always seeming to appear from a side room or shadow ready to boom his latest demand.

The exercise courses themselves were soul sapping, for at least six hours; sometimes longer if there was a specific task to improve on, they were run, jumped, marched and sometimes thrown along winding, obstacle laden routes. Their feet swelled and cracked at the unforgiving leather of their heavy boots, their skin dried and hardened, the fragile bones seeming to fuse into one solid mass that burned harshly with every step. Delia in particular learned to hate the monkey bars and climbing wall, her natural lack of height giving her a disadvantage. Her fingers became dry and the joints ached so that she became clumsy and fell again and again from the impediments placed before her. Cursing she would find herself laying in mud or bog several times a day but no mercy would be delivered to her at these times and she would be inevitably forced to attempt the feat until she managed it, embarrassed and frustrated at herself. During the second week her hands actually bled, the swollen skin splitting like the blooming petals of a disgusting flower. They took a long time to heal even with copious globs of yellow antiseptic ointment and were eventually replaced by ugly lumps and calluses the made her hands seem foreign and strange to her. 

The PT was another inescapable terror, every day, ten to twelve they were marched into a big hall that reminded Delia of her primary school and made to perform repetitive exercises; lunges, star jumps, press ups, pull ups, sit ups, bleep tests, running on the spot for great swathes of times as the trainers screamed at them to try ever harder, to push themselves to reach another personal best. Their demands were insatiable.

Then came drill, endless, back breaking drill. The corporals voice jarring them, picking out the smallest flaws and making that individual perform the manoeuvre until it was perfected in front of the whole squad. The seemingly never ending calls of "Left! Right!" permeated everyone's waking thoughts and sometimes their sleeping ones too. It became a common occurrence for the whole dormitory to be woken by cursing as someone flipped themselves out of bed in the night as their legs twitched to the silent orders in their dreams.

The squads only respite were the occasional hours spent in the classrooms that were always kept freezing as if someone was afraid they might relax too much. But even they were exhausting in their own way as they were forced to learn and recite long winded processes. The correct way to handle their rifles in diagram form, the correct procedure when an airborne attack occurred including the proper way to put on gas masks, the rules of engagement and the rules they would need to follow when on active duty in a war zone, basic tactics and the various ways to orientate oneself to a terrain and navigate it. Delia's handwriting was now not so much neat as a frantic scribble hardly legible, desperate to retain the information as well as she possibly could as they could all at any time be called out by any of the tutor staff and expected to recite something, the beastings that occurred to them all were laborious and time consuming if they failed to meet the expected standard of answer. So far two of the squad had been deemed unacceptable and they had all been forced to cut the sports pitch grass with nail scissors and scrub out the toilet block mercifully without the need for toothbrushes, a job that brought their coach driver Fred several steps up in Delia's estimation as she had sweat over a filthy toilet bowl in the male latrines.

There was hardly time for Delia to ruminate about Patsy, it was a rare occasion that they were even capable of discussing anything of substance when the group gathered. Meal times were a rushed affair now as the camp filled to an incredibly vast capacity. They were never given more than ten minutes to eat and by dinner time, which could be as late at ten at night, the squad could barely fight through their exhaustion to identify their food choices to the servers let alone muster the strength for conversation. On two occasions Barbara had actually managed to fall asleep, mouth full of fried food, tilting head first into her mess tin and remaining there until one of the others managed to wake her with a pointed shake on her shoulder.

Even once they were deposited into their dorms after their meals and dismissed the night was hardly their own. Drained, snappish and tired they would all file to their beds and shuffle into their pyjamas. Clothes from that day would be collected by whoevers turn it was that evening and placed into the massive industrial washers down in the main laundry. Then they would all take a number and wait for their turn to begin the dull but necessary task of ironing their kit for the next day. On a rota Chummy had devised someone would later have to go to the washing machine, put the wet clothes into the driers and then a third unfortunate would have to shuffle out of bed at two in the morning to retrieve the clothes and put them in a sorted pile at the end of everyone's beds. 

Four people had already quit, marching to the majors office after one arduous day too many and demanding they be given their relief papers. Those that stayed were thin and pale but miraculously growing stronger. They really were. Muscles they had never known they had were beginning to form and bulge out of bodies that were becoming leaner and stronger by the day. Even Chummy exclaimed at the end of week three that she would soon need to send her clothes back to the quartermaster for a smaller size as her trousers were nearly falling off and she'd shown Delia, in muted excitement as they waited for their turn at the iron, where she'd been forced to pierce fresh holes into her belt to make it tight enough. Delia, though no stranger to exercise, had never lived such an exhausting life for such a prolonged period. Her body felt strange, the efforts of the day wearing at her dully.

The squad no longer missed beats when they were paraded about the place, their arms began to stiffen and brace against their sides out of a new habit when they walked and the world beyond the wire fence of the camp became a sort of dream, home became a far off kind of heaven. It was Trixie who appeared to struggle with the lack of home comforts the most and spoke longingly of the world where one could wear shoes with a heel not made from rubber. With some excitement she planned the weekend break at the end of the sixth week in an obsessive way once they were all ensconced into their beds. Three nights of pure freedom, alcohol and sleeping in with a free three day pass into the local town. For most, it was one of the strongest carrots they could conjure up to fight off the constantly present sticks thrown at them.

By the end of the fourth week it seemed the break was all the others could talk about. Delia, for her part, felt torn at the prospect of an interruption to the daily grind. While her body felt exhausted she could not find time to reflect on recent events, she was not forced to face the realities of being around Patsy and everything that proceeded from that statement. For the most part they had been able to keep to their hastily made agreement of not making their previous relationship obvious and after a few days Patsy had reverted from brooding anger to the cold figure Delia recalled from the final days of their relationship but even so Delia doubted the others were completely convinced by their stiff attempts at small talk. Fortunately the schedule had prevented them from having to try too hard at civility for the sake of the others. Only twice had they been forced to spend any length of time together on their own; once in a gas mark drill where they'd both stuttered and stalled as they were required to touch each other's face to fasten the apparatus and once to retrieve kit from the equipment store during an obstacle race. On both occasions their conversation had been nearly nonexistent, neither able to think of what to say to the other. Delia knew Patsy dealt with emotion badly; a remnant from past wounds she'd never managed to heal but was at a loss at how to begin repairing the rift from her side. Unsure too if it was a good idea to even attempt it.

The concept of being friendly towards Patsy was a double edged sword. On the one hand it would certainly make the days less uncertain, the butterflies in her stomach that fluttered vainly whenever the red head was close could be put to bed and it was vaguely possible they might be able to salvage some level of professional pride at one another's achievements if not outright comfortable. On the other hand the weight of so much history could hardly be so easily thrown aside; they had loved each other. Delia had always scoffed at the idea of soulmates when it was trotted out by others but there had been a time... Delia didn't know if she could stand to have Patsy in her life without having her in the way that she had known before, wasn't certain she had it in her to accept that compromise. Could they ever truly be neutral friends? Delia struggled to imagine it.

Whenever, these troubling thoughts surfaced she had so far managed to push them away telling herself they had another eight weeks to get through and that they had managed to get through the first four without incident and rocking the apple cart at this stage would just cause more upset, content to drift in the uncertain waters she currently waded in until such time as it became an absolute requirement for action. It was as good a plan as any she reassured herself even as she felt a twinge of guilt when she watched Patsy drift past her line of vision with a stack of ironing balanced on her arm and felt a pang of longing.

It was at the dawn of their fifth week that Delia was rudely forced to seriously consider what she was going to do about Patsy. It was a rare morning in the classroom, the squad assembled onto single desks as they watched Small stand before an interactive whiteboard. They had just finished a lecture on bayonets and would later that day finally attend the real life bayonet exercises. The week would be devoted to the subject it seemed and the reasons behind this were quickly established when the corporal clicked a button on his laptop and a list was projected onto the board. It was a list of names placed in pairs, the whole squad was on it.

"Next Monday Squads I to P will be engaging in an immersive exercise. The group will be transported to an unnamed location and will be dropped off in varying environments. Squad P as most of you are medics you will be scattered amongst the groups to act in the positions that you would be in active combat. You will each receive all your appropriate medical equipment from stores Sunday evening. Those who are due to join the clerical core will not be expected to attend.' Chummy sagged slightly beside Delia in disappointment at the news she would not be involved and shot Delia a commiserating look while the corporal continued, 'of the fourteen nurses you will be split into twos amongst seven teams. The aim of the exercise will to be to practise the information and skills you have been taught. We'll call it a half way test. Each team will be expected to treat the other squads as unfriendlies. The last team to be standing at the end of the four days will be crowned the winner. Over the next week, in preparation for this you will be buddied up to your partner during lessons and the expectation is that you prepare yourself for this exercise starting from now. The names are on the board".

The squad dutifully squinted at the board. Delia read through it swiftly, heart sinking as she found Barbara, who she usually paired off with during drill, had been placed with Shelagh. Trixie was joined with a sulky nurse called Jenny and Delia was paired with Patsy. She felt herself stiffen as she read and re read the list, willing herself to be wrong. To her dismay the words did not change, the letters still indelibly continued to link the name Busby with Mount for all to see. 

She felt the blood drain from her face as she turned to Chummy who had also scanned the board and gave her a consolatory shove with her arm, clearly interpreting the reason behind Delia's silence and trying to make it better somehow,  
"Oh you're with Patsy old thing, that will be fun I'm sure, at least you'll be someone you know. Poor Trixie's with Worth and she's a terrible complainer. You've worked with Patsy before now, I'm certain the time will positively fly by." Worked. Yes thought Delia bitterly they'd work together sure enough along with the rest of it. Delia inclined her body forward to look up the row to Patsy who was biting her lip as she too realised what was in store for her, she didn't look pleased. Delia snapped back into her seat, burning with apprehension and a detached sort of bitterness that Patsy was horrified at their prospective closeness. Delia felt her spine tingle as the reality of the task presented itself. Shit, shit, shit. The corporal was still talking to them, giving orders for their lesson at the range and the others stirred with excitement at the prospect of finally being given a firearm. Delia felt unmoved, her thoughts racing. 

When they were dismissed fifteen minutes later for a twenty minute lunch Delia purposefully hung back as the others left the classroom until she was the only one left. Chummy had offered to stay when Delia muttered her intentions to her friend while the lesson continued but Delia declined, not wanting an audience if this ended badly.

The corporal was tidying the teachers desk at the top of the room, winding the cords from the laptop ready to be neatly deposited into the bag. Delia shuffled over to the man nervously, unsure of how to begin her request and anxious about the consequences. Patsy had eyed her speculatively as she had left the room with the others but Delia had refused to meet her eyes, the flare in the woman's eyes as she had stared at Delia had made her stomach jolt and her scalp tingle. Four days in a forest or field with Patsy would be unbearable. She had no other choice.  
"Problem Busby?" The corporals grunting question brought Delia back to the moment and her task, she fidgeted her feet awkwardly thinking it would be better to get it over without preamble. The corporal was a direct man after all.  
"Yes corporal. I just wanted too... I thought I might..." Delia stammered, her palms sweating in the glare of the man's stare.  
"Spit it out private I haven't got all day." His voice was surprisingly kind, an oddly unsettling tone, seemingly just curious rather than irritated.  
"I was just wondering corporal if it would be possible to... um, it's just I wanted to change my buddy for the exercise" She tailed off as the man blinked, taken aback and eyes thinning to slits as he considered his private.  
"Change your buddy, why? What's wrong with Mount?"  
"Nothing corporal it's just I haven't really worked with her much in training. I thought Private Gilbert would be a better match, we're usually together in the other exercises." The corporals frown deepened as he took a breath before answering heavily,  
"All matches were made by me. They're not negotiable unless there's another reason you haven't shared with me." Delia felt herself sink internally but hastened to reply, not wanting Patsy to receive extra attention for an issue that was between them.  
"No other reason sir, I just know Barbara better that's all." The lie was surprisingly easy to tell, after all it was partially true she considered morosely, what did she really know about Patsy any more? The corporal sighed and stood up, edging round the desk to perch on the table beside Delia arms folded across his chest.  
"Familiarity is important Busby, knowing your team is too and I'm glad you're close to your colleague- it's a good sign. It means the training's working, but the pairs are the way they are for a reason. Do you like history Busby?' Delia nodded, the question surprising her and thinking privately that she'd agree to just about anything right now if it hastened the end of the conversation now that she had her answer. 'After Waterloo so many people were dead, soldiers were just strewn all over the place, and the remaining soldiers, can you guess what they did?" Delia shook her head, unsure where this was going as the corporal continued, 'the lucky sods who survived fell back into ranks and practised drill for hours that's what. The reasons for that is simple, they had to get used to the new men who now marched next to them and they needed to remain in control emotionally after a charged battle.' The man sighed, allowing a fleeting display of fatigue to marr his worn face, 'you know, before this job I did a tour in Afghanistan, I joined up with my best friend at 18. We used to kick a ball around the park, proper best friends type of thing. We were always paired during basic because we worked so well; even got posted together.' The man seemed to harden as he pressed on, the lines around his eyes sinking deeper. 'He copped it while we were out there in 'Ganners, took a bullet during a friendly drop off of supplies to a local village, it was point-blank range, no chance of survival, the poor sod was gone before he even hit the ground.' Delia forced herself not to fidget as the man paused, eyes seeing things Delia could not before he continued. 'When he died I really struggled to cope without him, I didn't know how to get the job done with just the others and it took a hell of a long time to learn. I don't want that for you lot, you need to be able to adapt to change or it'll drown you and that's why you're with Mount, I want you all to learn the lessons I had to now rather than later. Sorry Busby that's all I can say on the matter." Delia blinked at him stupidly for a moment, surprised at how honest the man had been, it was strange to think of him as anything but the voice that shouted at them from across the parade ground. Maybe Chummy's view on him had been right after all.

Delia left the room in a reflective mood after she'd excused herself from the classroom and wandered disconsolately down the deserted building towards the cafeteria. To her surprise Patsy seemed to have been waiting for her at the entrance and was lounging beside the wall smoking a cigarette. When Delia marched down the steps, the September sun warming her face Patsy cleared her throat noisily to attract Delia's attention, her voice resolute and sour. Delia felt herself jump guiltily at the unexpected noise, feeling trapped.  
"What did you want to speak to Small for?" Delia hesitated, not wanting to admit her actions, as she took in Patsy's frosty demeanour and settled for,  
"Oh, just this and that. I had a question about the difference between the specs of rifles and I didn't want to bore the class". Patsy surveyed her, eyebrows raised in disbelief as she tapped off a line of ash from the end of her fag.  
"So you weren't trying to swap partners then?" Her tone was sarcastic as she blew out a torrent of grey smoke, her mouth shaping a perfect O in the process. Involuntarily Delia blushed in response, embarrassed at being caught. She looked down at her boots before answering in a small voice.  
"The subject might have come up a bit yeah". Patsy huffed and stubbed out her ciggy under her foot, grinding the butt into the ground with slightly more force than was strictly necessary and bit out her question harshly.  
"So what now? Who are you paired with?" Delia shrugged, aiming for nonchalant as she answered.  
"Nothing now. We're still paired. Small wants us to learn to work with new people and as far as he's concerned we don't know each other,' Delia hesitated slightly before continuing, 'he's got a point, I suppose, even if wasn't his intention when he did it. We do need to learn to work together." Patsy rolled her eyes at this,  
"I thought we were already doing that Delia, are you really going to try and say we don't know how to work together."  
"No' interrupted Delia irritably, 'I'm trying to suggest that what we're doing now isn't working together. It's existing and that's not going to cut it on exercise. What I'm suggesting is that we both try to find some way to interact like reasonable human beings rather than huffing at each other every ten minutes,' Delia shrugged again reflecting to herself that if nothing else came of this situation then she would at least have nonchalant shrugging down to a fine art by the end of the exercise, 'it can't hurt can it?" 

Patsy considered Delia carefully, as though weighing up responses in her head before replying, her answer coming out hesitant as though every word cost her dearly.  
"Maybe. Maybe you're right. I can do this. We used to be a pretty good team before you gave up as I recall." Delia felt her teeth gnash together but didn't bite, refusing to let Patsy destroy her good intentions so quickly. Lips pursed her nodded towards the cafeteria,  
"Have you eaten yet?" Patsy shrugged non committally, refusing to give an answer and took a deep breath through her nose,  
"I thought I'd get to the armory actually. The queues going to be ridiculous but by all means you get some food if you're feeling hungry, I'll meet you there." Delia rocked on her feet, hungry but stubbornly reluctant to show it, not wanting Patsy to think she'd got the best of her.  
"Yeah, I'm not actually hungry, I'll go with you". Patsy smirked and turned about, taking long strides without another word. Delia watched her go for a moment before sighing knowing the taller woman was doing it on purpose, knowing Delia's legs were shorter and that she'd have to walk faster to keep up. Scowling, she made to follow.

Half an hour later, Delia stood beside Patsy in the external range behind the armory. In her hands she held the warm metal of her Heckler and Koch SA80A2 rifle. The body of the weapon wrapped securely by both hands as they all waited for the corporal and a few orderlies to finish wheeling in odd mannequin shaped straw figures in front of them. On the other side of the group Chummy waved at her, managing to drop her rifle and scrabbling to pick it up again before Small could notice. Luckily the man was distracted as he slid the final Mannequin into place. One per pair. Delia eyed the bayonet on the floor before them, the sharp tip of the stubby sword making her feel faintly queasy.  
"Right, today we're doing the real thing. You are all aware of the processes so I'm going to see what your made of. On the count of one the first person will fix their bayonet. On the call of two they will enter the make ready position. On the count of three you will step to your mannequin stab that bastard until I say to stop and ladies, I want to see rage. This is preparation for war not a tea party. On the count of four you are to disengage and step back. The call will start again and the second soldier will begin. Get ready." The squad squared up, some excited, some distasteful. Patsy moved as if to take up the first position but Delia was too quick, nudging just a tad further ahead and reaching for the first bayonet. Patsy would not be in control of everything Delia thought sourly, her thighs still aching slightly from their forced jog. Throwing the red head a stubborn look she took up the position, only slightly conscious that Patsy now had a perfect reason to stare at her butt.

The Corporal raised his hand and called out the first signal. Hands fumbling but sure she could do this she fixed the sword to the barrel of her rifle, feeling relieved at the resounding click as the catches attached. Second call, Delia leant forward, her feet spread as she prepared to charge. The distance was less than fifty metres, a walk in the park. Third call. Delia jogged up to the mannequin and speared the sword through the stomach several times halfheartedly, her elbow stiffening as she prepared to step back. The others must have done likewise because the air broke into an eruption of shouts from the corporal as he strode into the field of vision.  
"No! Fucking no, you bunch of fairies. I said I wanted to see a fight face! Every one of you, get back to where you started. Go!" Delia straightened and returned to the starting line, ignoring Patsy's smug smile as she did so. The corporal was standing behind Delia's mannequin and shaking it.  
"Busby, look at this thing, you're not seeing your enemy, you're seeing an inanimate object. What you do not realise that in the real world this fucker is going to try his best to kill you before you kill him. He's going to be one mean son of a bitch and you need to be prepared. Now fucking take your stance!" Delia, ears reddening as the others stared at her, spread her feet once again. The corporal rattled the mannequin so that the casters rattled ominously.  
"Fucking look at this bastard, he is going to kill you, he wants to end your miserable little life private. Only way to stop him is to kill him before he gets the chance, you're going to do this right this time aren't you Bubsy?"  
"Yes Corporal!"  
"Good, now fucking let your face know it, get prepared!" Delia gritted her teeth, hating the surge of adrenaline building in her like a spring before the boing. The corporal made her wait, the anticipation growing in her muscles as she rocked, waiting for the call, focusing on her imagined enemy.  
"Now! Move, fucking do it!" 

Delia felt a cry ricochet out of her as the figure loomed up. Thrusting the bayonet ahead of her she felt her shoulder creak as she struck again and again, the blood rumbling in her ears deafening her to everything. The body juddered and shook as she pounded it. Straw soared out from the hole behind it, her arms flew back and forward like the ticking arm of grandfather clock. Delia, felt herself tire, the action unfamiliar and distasteful but was unprepared to stop, she would not be made a fool of in front of everyone. Only the shout of the corporal broke the spell. Panting, sweat on her forehead she swivelled on shaky feet to turn back to the group, the rifle suddenly weighing more than it had before. 

From what felt like a long way away The corporal was clapping and praising her but Delia couldn't take it in, she already felt sick at herself. Stray bits of straw fluttered along the path ahead of her. The squad, looked equally distraught, they were all looking at Delia in shock at the force of her actions. Dead center ahead Patsy was staring at her, eyes wide, and mouth slack. In one breath it seemed they all thought the same thing.

Was this what being a soldier would make of them all?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is. Been a few days. This chapter was actually quite difficult to write for me. There were lots of little things that needed to be incorporated in to take them all to the next step so I'm sorry if it's a but dull. The army lingo was helpfully supplied by my dad over a stiff drink.
> 
> I'm not terribly happy but I think the next chapter will be a bit more fun.
> 
> Anyhoo enjoy :D


	10. What candles may be held,

Squad P had been split into their pairs early Monday morning and slid into the other groups to wait for their transport. Chummy had watched them go with disappointment and frustration ill disguised on her long usually keen face. Delia had been hard pushed to be sympathetic to her friend, thinking privately she'd give just about anything to swap places, as she'd watched Patsy pack her bergen grumpily late Sunday night. As instructed the whole squad we're weighed down heavily with medical equipment, a large green med bag with defibrillator, dressings, a fold up stretcher, a small oxygen tank with mask, general first aid supplies and, horribly, a selection of coloured flag stickers. This was on top of their regular kit; sleeping bag, mess tins, ration packs, water bottles and rifle. 

The sheer volume of it all meant they were forced to carry it between them with their bergens strapped to their back. Delia's pockets were finally finding their mysterious use and jangled with contraband sweeties. Her mother had sent a care package with a packet of rubharb custards and welshcakes early in the week. Delia had happily shared out the cakes to the squads delight but had managed to squirrel the sweets away. It was an old habit from training, life never seeming quite so bad when you were sucking on a sweet. In a last ditch effort to cheer Chummy up she'd put the remaining sweets under Chummys pillow to find once they were gone. Hopefully it would make her smile.

Squad J were Delia and Patsy's new group for the exercise. A group of men all headed for the infiltry and made up of, or so it seemed, a group of friends who'd all signed up together from Norfolk. The nurses were pushed to the sidelines slightly as the group laughed and joked together waiting for the cargo truck. Patsy had smoked a sly cigarette while they all milled around. Delia, in an effort not to watch Patsy had contented herself by watching with interest as the group leader, a blond man of twenty, had signed and taken possession of a large box labelled ammunition. 

There would be no live rounds fired on the exercise but the rubber bullets they would be supplied with instead could still hurt. Squad P had been given strict instructions to deal with any wounds as though they were real and Delia was thankful for her trauma experience in this upcoming situation, she'd seen enough GSW's in London that the prospect of dealing with such things did not scare her as much as some of the others. Barbara, who had quickly gone into geriatrics after finishing her training, while no stranger to death, had bored them all silly during the week with questions about what to expect. Delia knew the prospect of so much violence was hard for her. 

Eventually, the squad had been loaded into the back of a truck, Delia reminded strongly of how cattle were shifted about by the farmers for slaughter at home, and their supplies were piled around their feet. Delia and Patsy, as the only women, were given first dibs on seating and settled close to the back beside one another. The rest of the group had then squashed in beside them, the aesthetic akin to a can of sardines as the engine rumbled to life and began the undisclosed journey to their destination.

Through the opening at the back of the van Delia watched, for how long it was hard to gauge as main roads turned to motorway and then the truck pulled out from the main routes all together, piling onto dirt tracks and barely there forest paths. The truck had rattled as they passed over the rocky terrain and they had all been forced to hold onto the edge of their bench seats as the van bucked and swayed alarmingly. Delia had been increasingly unsettled by the brush of Patsy's thigh on her own as the journey went on, powerfully aware of the fact that Patsys little finger rubbed along hers as they clutched at soft wood, the red heads breathing catching slightly as they were all jolted and shook.

Their boots were less than an inch apart, the thinnest line of metal peeking through from the floor seperating them, Delia tried to focus only on that but the distraction of her company tugged at her, left her warm at being so close. On the one occasion Delia had been brave enough to sneak a look at the woman Patsy had caught her gaze boldly, her expression wistful and, or so it seemed to Delia's mind, her blue eyes had seemed to flicker down to Delias lips for a moment so quickly it could have been a trick of the light. The next time the van jolted Delia made sure she only held on with one hand; the one on the other side from Patsy. Determined not to be so easily flustered or show how much this was affecting her.

Was it Delias imagination though, or was Patsy's leg rubbing hers more than the rumbling vans movements warranted? Maybe Delia wanted that to be true. Maybe it was... or not. Delia sighed and remembered her nans favourite saying from her childhood; "if if's and buts were candy and nuts Cariad..."

What seemed like an age later the truck halted in the center of a wasted, dead looking field, the yellow blooms of the rapeseed crop sentried along the neighbouring acres waved like a jaundiced tide preparing to come in. The military driver had alighted with them long enough to help retrieve the kit from the back and to pass on a map and references to the squad leader, a man Delia had since ascertained was called 'Buzz' by the others. Once everything was squared away the driver left them, the air smelling briefly of diesel until the vehicle rocked back onto the path, the thick tyre tracking deep gauges into the soil as it passed from view.

The group had all taken a knee as they retrieved compasses from packs and tracked a route through open ground to the allocated site. They had been informed that the others were somewhere close by but had not been told where. There had been a brief discussion amongst the men at their proposed tactics. Two dark haired men, possibly brothers, argued fiercely that the squad should seek out the other teams that day while they were busy setting up their camps but the rest of the group had shouted them down. Their walk would take the better part of two hours they'd protested, laden down with kit as they were. Buzz had made an executive decision to follow orders and find their spot and they'd all got up and heaved at their respective burdens.

The walk to camp might have been pleasant, Delia was a country girl in a lot of ways and it felt comfortable as they made their way through farmland and isolated copses, were it not for the weight of so much baggage and the constant need to remain in single file formation. Delia and Patsy were placed near the back of the line, med bag stretched between them and swinging softly with every step. The men walked slightly stooped, vigilant for a sign on an attack, rifles in a ready position in front of them. They were headed for a dense crop of forest, the shelter of the trees would help fight visibility from outsiders but would hinder them if they were attacked. 

The wind seemed to grow in strength the longer they walked, the frigid gusts seeming to cut through Delia's jacket like a cruel whip. Her shoulders burned where the straps of her bergen bit into the soft flesh and the awkward shape of her arm as it stretched behind her to hold onto the med bag ached dully before becoming numb as the light began to fade around them.

It was six before they got to camp. A patch of empty space nestled in shadows of overhanging trees with open scrubland on one side. The group split up to prepare the space. The nurses, once again, were almost ignored as the men spoke quietly to one another. Buzz directed Delia and Patsy to a space in the center of the camp and instructed them hurriedly to set up the tent and equipment. 

The army tent was quickly erected, the two women working hurriedly, passing poles and holding scraps of fabric together for the other to tie the catches. Together they managed to drag the waterproof webbing over the frame just before the heavens opened on them. Thick droplets falling from the sky and soaking them all through to the skin, gliding down gaps between body and clothes. A few fold down shovels were passed around and Delia volunteered to dig channels around the tent perimeter to prevent water entering through the walls while Patsy unpacked the necessary items and split the first aid thing's into two smaller packs. 

When Delia had finished, hands filthy but confident her efforts would serve them well, she crawled through the small hole in the buttoned up doorway to stop the draft and lay on the partially covered ground, panting and wiping tiredly at tendrils of hair that had been plastered to her face in the onslaught of the gale. Her body cramped as it was forced to fold up, the top of her head nudging the back of something pointy.

Although the tent was generously named a two man the realities were far more bijou. The equipment and bergens were stacked neatly to one side and the remaining space was barely big enough for the two sleeping bags wedged side by side next to it all. It was apparent that the nights would be a hurdle Delia was ill prepared at present to deal with. Turning her attention from this particular thorny issue she tilted her head to look over at Patsy who was kneeling close by, fiddling with the oxygen cannister. Absorbed for the moment by her task.

For the first time since this whole debacle began Delia could inspect her erstwhile ex in close proximity without having to worry someone would see and wonder why she looked so intense. Patsy, annoyingly, pulled off the soldier look well Delia decided grudgingly. Her long frame and slim hips meant the heavy fabric hung on her flatteringly whereas Delia had given up trying to fix her own clothes to look mildly charming. The red hair complimented the green too, she looked almost festive. 

On their first Christmas Delia had managed to get an excuse not to go to Wales. In light of such a monumental event, their first holiday in the same country, Delia had bought them matching Christmas jumpers and nagged Patsy into wearing hers all that day. Every time she'd looked the red heads way she'd been unable to contain her grin as she took in the image of her serious, beautiful girlfriend in a navy jumper with an elf that flashed when a bobble was tweaked the right way. Patsy had stubbornly insisted she'd cook a Christmas meal for them aswell after one or two cracks by Delia about her lack of culinary skills. The turkey crown she'd purchased specially for the day had ended up burnt, they'd quickly become too distracted by other more pressing matters in the bedroom and neither of them ever managed to fully remove the residue of the spoiled to meal that Pat's had somehow stuck to the bars of the oven shelf, much to their shared hilarity.

They'd drunk champagne with strawberries in the end and eaten a loaf of brioche bought for boxing day breakfast to stave off starvation, wearing ill fitting paper hats and stupid grins as they ripped peices off the block of pastry and poked it into each others smiling mouths.The Patsy in the here and now reached forward to pull out a little respirator from the bergen, the pale expanse of her lower back peeking out from under a shirt that had ridden up. Delia recalled the way she had peeled away the past Patsy's Christmas jumper and stroked that same flesh and marked it red with the strength of her fingerprints. Patsy had tasted of butter, sugar and strawberries that night. The tree they'd decorated together, Delia gleeful and Patsy uncertain at undertaking a tradition she hadn't practiced since she'd been a young child, had made their skin dance with the reflection of hundreds of fairy lights. Delia had fallen asleep on the sofa, sated and happy, curved around Patsy that night. She'd slept untroubled, certain her place in that spot would never be in doubt.

Delia sighed wistfully. That had been a very long time ago. The Patsy she dealt with now was not the same woman. Neither was Delia come to think of it. There was too much hurt there to be any different. Too many disappointments and regrets.

Patsy rested the mask onto the handle of the gas cannister, apparently satisfied and leaned back. The two of them now both laying sprawled out, bodies touching slightly.  
"Everything tip top and Bristol fashion now?" Patsy asked, her voice muffled by her hands as she rubbed her face.  
"Yeah, nothing short of a flood is getting through." They continued to lay there for a few moments before Delia shook herself and moved to get up.  
"I think I'm about ready to find out what ration packed food tastes like."

Shit. Thats what it tasted like as it turned out. Delia had scanned her allotted packets quickly and had chosen spaghetti bolognese. She regretted it immediately as the jalf boiled water was absorbed in the thin grey looking pasta, the fire still not quite up to full strength yet. The others were sat in a rough circle except for the dark haired brothers who'd volunteered for first watch and were currently spaced on either side of camp a few kilometres out. 

Buzz allocated roles to the squad,cleaning. watch duty, fire, equipment etc. Again, the nurses were left out, none of the men seeming to count them in their numbers. Their role would only come to the fore if an attack occurred. They needed to be kept semi free in case a medical emergency occured. The squad were friendly enough but it was clear that the women were not a part of the group, the jokes remained restrained, no one willing to breach the line of civility in their company.

Predictably, Patsy left first, citing a few errands she needed to run in the tent. The others watched her go, eyes sliding to Delia expectantly. Delia managed to stick it out for another half an hour, hoping Patsy might be asleep by the time she had to slip into her bag but the faintly oppressive atmosphere eventually wore on her and she too made her excuses dejectedly. None of the others called her back.

Delia tried to drag out the time before she had to get into the tent, nipping into the hastily dug latrine and spending as long as she dared in the close, fetted air. She purposefully dawdled on the short walk, eyes kept sharp as she scanned the dark thatch of trees about her. She needed to make certain she took her gun with her next time, the threat of the corporals response on hearing one of his squad had been caught without their weapon making her hesitate and become overly cautious. 

The tent was quiet as she approached and Delia hoped with all her might she wouldn't have to deal with Patsy tonight, still not sure how she felt about laying so close to her. Today had been long enough.

Patsy was not asleep. Not even a little bit. Delia sighed as she poked her head through the hole. Steeling herself before crawling into the cramped little space. Patsy had shrugged off her boots and socks and was padding barefoot, half bent by the low ceiling. Delia caught an unexpected glimpse of Patsy's pert arse as it swayed in front of her face and felt her hand sway slightly making her stumble as she crawled. 

Patsy turned as Delia entered, watching Delia approach on her knees. The expression on her face told Delia explicitly that the red head was thinking of one or two other times this vision had occurred. Delia cleared her voice pointedly trying not to blush again.  
"I thought I'd get an early night, big today tomorrow and everything." Patsy jaw stiffened and she nodded but made no move to get into her sleeping bag.  
"Good idea, although I don't know if I can sleep in all this, I'm soaked". She pulled her shirt away from her body with thumb and forefinger to show how the fabric was darker than it should be and damp. Delia gulped as she took in the way the shirt clung to Patdys chest and attempted to distract herself by considering how they were going to manage stripping down in here. The only way really would be for one of them to lie down while the other stepped over and about them. They shared a meaningful look; Delia's stomach churning. Without a discussion they both seemed to decide that there were harder things in life than sleeping in damp clothes.

Delia shrugged off her boots and socks but left the laces loose so she could slip them on at a moments notice and placed them beside Patsy's own near the front of the tent. Her feet felt weirdly light without them as she rolled awkwardly to remove her jacket. Once discarded and draped on a bergen she slid into her bag gratefully. She was in the middle she noted. With Delia in her bag their shared space seemed even smaller, Delia now laying somewhat on Patsy's sleeping bag.

Delia tried to relax, the ground with all its dips and bumps were still faintly evident through the ground sheet and foam layer of protection beneath her. The air was moist and made her throat dry, even with the padding of the bag the night still felt cold. Patsy didn't immediately follow, she seemed to be purposefully being noisy, refusing to let her companion sleep. After cleaning and repacking her bag Patsy too shrugged off her jacket and bent to her knees. Delia could feel every finger as Patsy clutched her calf to pull her bag out from under Delia.

Then she was in and suddenly they were pushed together, two bodies stretched into a space made for one. Delia twitched as she felt the hot length of Patsy beside her. They both fidgeted, trying to find a way to fit together without touching too much. Eventually Patsy seemed to give up and flopped down with a huff, her stomach pressing into Delia's back, arms pinned to her sides.

"I hate this!" Patsys whispered truth echoed Delia's own thoughts.  
"Thats because it's a rubbish situation, just go to sleep Pats". Please go to sleep Pats. Delia doubted she'd be able to sleep herself, the muffled feeling of Patsy was impossible to ignore.  
"I hate camping" muttered Patsy from the dark and Delia smirked remembering the disastrous time they'd volunteered to chaperone the boy scouts camping weekend. Patsy had sworn to Delia she would never do it again as she struggled to fit miscellaneous bits of tent together in a field while the boys ran riot around them. That tent had been much bigger than this one though.

"Yes, I remember." Delia tried to make her voice sound sleepy to hint at the red head but the dark seemed to be making her bold and Patsy continued on.  
"I never thought I'd be this close to you again you know..." Delia felt Patsys hand land lightly on her forearm and shivered involuntarily.  
"Not through choice Pats. From either of us", Delia's response was a warning that was not heeded. Patsys hand didn't move.  
"You could have swapped." Delia felt the skin on her neck burst into goosebumps as Patsys breath tickled the fine hairs on her nape.  
"Yes I could have..." Delia hated that her voice trembled. It wasn't fair that Patsy could do this to her still so easily.  
"You know Deel's, when you left I thought of so many things I wanted to do to you if we ever saw each other again". The hand was moving south, Delia felt her thighs clench as it glided down to capture her hip firmly.  
"Is that right?" This was going too far, Delia should stop it. Or just flip over and enjoy it, murmured her inner thoughts. She shook her head, that was a terrible idea. But you want to added the unhelpful but truthful voice. Delia bit her lip and closed her eyes, hands gripped the seem of her mattress in front of her where they could do no damage.  
"Hmm, all sorts of things Deel's, not all of them nice, I didn't like you very much back then when you left. I mean, I still lo-" Patsy was cut off as Delia sat up angrily. That wasnt fair, Patsy didn't get to say that to Delia. Patsy didn't love Delia the way Delia had loved her. It was cruel to even say it now. 

They both stared at each others dark outline, chests heaving.  
"I think' Delia spat through gritted teeth, 'that it would be better for us to sleep back to back. We need to go to sleep Patience."  
Patsy didn't reply immediately, her body very still before she turned on her side facing away from Delia, the movement almost violent with its speed.  
"And you used to say I was the one who dealt with feelings badly." Was her parting shot, venom filling the phrase.  
"Shut up Patsy." Was Delia's rather feeble rebuttal as she glared at the back of Patsys head. Patsy, to her disappointment did not reply, so Delia was forced to sink down on her side angry and frustrated, teeth gnashing as she raged internally.

The night outside rustled, the wind howled. The two women did not bother to speak again, bodies kept stiff until sleep claimed them once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just going to leave this here. Have a lovely Sunday peeps.
> 
> SB


	11. to speed them all?

The sky crackled overhead, the ominous clouds that banked beyond were black and angry in the horizon, thick with rain yet to be shed. The air was moist and heavy, the scent of dew seemed to permeate the whole world, the plants and trees glowing faintly with the lush moisture of it. The wood cut for the fire fizzled and spat, burning wrong and popping loudly. Grey steam swirled in the muggy air.

The wind howled as though shouting at them all for daring to be out while it blustered so fiercely. The canvas walls of the tents, lined up so neatly, billowed like strange ship sails, the shadows made odd by their constant thumping beats.

Delia was woken up early, the dawn had yet to rise and the camp seemed relatively quiet, by a tight pressure growing steadily between her legs. Only the quiet footfalls of the look outs interrupting the shout of the storm outside. Delia felt confusion as she realised she was warmer than she should be, the ground softer and far more giving. Someone was snoring quietly close by. Very close by in fact. The familiar tingling that had brought her back to consciousness apparently created by the friction of a hard thigh pressed between her legs.

Muzzily, she cracked open a single eye, her head still thick with sleep. Patsy's face loomed inches from Delia's own, eyes closed and face disarmingly calm in rest. Delia froze as she realised what must have happened in the night. The two of them were tightly entwined, Patsy's right arm wound around Delia's waist, the left tucked between them, hand splayed out on Delia's chest, the thumb hooked underneath her collar. Their legs were twisted, thighs tangled up, although Patsy's longer legs had bent and the strong imprint of a hip bone was even now pressed directly over Delia's vagina; a fact it seemed to be more than pleased by even if Delia herself was in two minds. Forcing herself not to make any sudden movements that might wake Patsy Delia lay very still. Her own arm was slung around Patsy's neck, her other resting on top of the womans steadily inflating chest. 

There was a strong heartbeat pulsing beneath her fingertips along Patsy's neck. The woman breathed slowly and smacked her lips as she muttered to herself. The leg pressing into Delia lifted slightly and Delia felt her body give an answering throb. A very foolish part of her considered waking Patsy and just getting this thing that didn't seem to be going away over with, the attraction that was always between them done and out of their systems completely. One quick shag. Delia didn't think it would take a great deal of work on Patsy part to finish this. The hand on her collar could so easily push just a little further and she'd be groping Delia's breasts anyway.

Stop it, ordered the part of her brain that had yet to be flooded with hormones. You wanted to fight her yesterday, nothing's changed. But Patsy had changed; a bit.  
"You used to say I was bad at dealing with emotions." Patsy had practically made a pass hadn't she last night? Maybe there was something there, maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

Sex doesn't mean love Delia, admonished that irritating honest inner voice. Well, no, that was true but sex could still mean something couldn't it? Couldn't it? Just a little. Patsy gave another nudge of her thigh and Delia's hand curled involuntarily at Patsy's throat, her nails grazing the skin lightly. Patsy moaned and arched, her lips blooming into a pouty sort of kiss as she nudged forward, still snoring and brushed her mouth over Delia's forehead tenderly, the lines between her eyebrows furrowing as her arms tightened so there was no space between them.

Delia was torn for a moment, seriously considering waking Patsy up and just jumping her but the more noble side of her won out eventually; Patsy was asleep, she had no idea what she was doing. Delia was being nothing short of lecherous in her actions and they both deserved better. Delia felt a quiet seed plant as she allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a way forward for them. If they could talk, if Patsy had really changed, if she could finally be free with her emotions what could possibly stop them from finding a way back to each other? Buoyed by her thoughts Delia gently pulled her hand from Patsy's neck and whispered;  
"Pats." 

Patsy grunted in response, the arms tightening even more, the hand on Delia's chest waking slightly as the fingers twitched and kneaded the flesh. The thigh shifted again and went for a full on grind this time. Delia squeezed her eyes closed, this was hard, it would be so easy just to let it happen. They were probably minutes away from just doing it.

"Patsy!" Patsy hmm and haa'd still half asleep and rocked against Delia for a second before shifting to pull Delia beneath her, soft lips glided across Delia's cheek, her chin. The hands were wondering, fully awake now even if their owner wasn't, the thigh applying strong even pressure. Delia's eyes rolled back in her head as she felt her own hips arch back, rubbing shamelessly against her bonds. This needed to... stop now or... not at all. A hand was tugging insistently at the buttons of her shirt, questing for more territory to touch, the other squeezed Delia's hips, sinking into welcoming warmth. They were so good at this. They had been fucking spectacular at this once upon a time. Delia only vaguely considered the consequences of how stupid this was. Consequences were a fuzzy thought to consider afterwards. 

The sleeping bag finally burst, the zipper gliding down as Delia pressed her body higher, seeking any friction she could find. The hand at Delia's hip ghosted to the catch of Delia's trousers hurriedly. Patsy's mouth was gliding over Delia's mouth. She would taste so good Delia thought hotly as her hips felt the rush of cold air when the button of her cargo's sprang free. The pads of Patsy's fingers groped to the edge of Delia's knickers and stopped to rub the lace trim. This needed to stop... or just start in earnest. Patsy's eyes were still closed but she must be slightly aware Delia thought hazily, she must know what she's doing. 

The fingers were moving lower as the other hand finally found an aching breast, a long thumb toyed with a tight nipple and Delia felt the breath leave her body as she expelled a great gust of air. Two long fingers were combing over her pubes, her body was embarrassingly ready for this. Had woken up ready. Oh God, this was actually happening, this was going to happen. They were going to have morning sex in a field surrounded by squaddies.

"Patsy" more a whimper than an opportunity to call the woman this time. The words seemed to finally have their desired effect though. Patsy hands seemed to freeze, the eyes opening wide and startlingly alert. Delia gasped, completely shook by how wide the pupils were blown, how dark the blue had become. Patsy's lips were so close Delia could already feel the shadow of the kiss to come. Just do it, just do it and we'll talk later, pleaded Delia in her head. Patsy's fingers shook, so bloody close to where they were desperately needed.

Breathing harshly, Delia raised her hands to cup Patsy's face, to stroke the familiar, beloved face. She allowed herself to trail down the strong cheek bones to trace the shape of a plump bottom lip.

"Delia?" Patsy sounded just was as affected, her mouth opened slightly as though she wanted to bite the finger.  
"Morning". Delia tried to sound braver than she was currently feeling. Patsy was still everywhere, they couldn't possibly stop now, her hand was still curled inside Delia's knickers. Delia let her hips raise slightly, a prompt and reassurance all at once as she smiled at the red head encouragingly.

"S'okay sweetheart". Patsy's bottom lip trembled slightly as she took in a fortifying breath, her body seeming to harden and soften impossibly at the same time. The fingers touching Delia stroked the soaking flesh questioningly. Wonderingly.  
"Is this for me?" Delia loved that voice, that husk. It meant she was home, it meant Patsy was right there. It had been so long since she'd heard it.  
"Always." Always, always, always, it had always been Patience. 

Patsy's eyes seemed to burn Delia wherever they landed, a teasing finger circled a swollen clit. Delia sighed and let her hands slip to Patsy's hair, sliding through the locks as she placed a gentle kiss to Patsy's throat, letting her legs fall apart; welcoming Patsy home. This was them, this wasn't bad surely.

A scream somewhere to their left, a shrill painful scream that seemed to rip the air broke the moment apart. Gun fire started off, the shouts of "medic!" called them. Blinking, they shook as though struck, their bodies still as statues, looking this way and that, trying to gather their bearings. 

Hurriedly they jumped apart, scrabbling at boots and jackets. Delia felt as though she was burning, her body jolting with any contact to her sensitive skin. Pats's mouth was open as she sucked in more oxygen. Both their hands shook as they pulled med packs onto their shoulders, wrestled to retie loosened buttons and groped for their rifles. Delia left the tent first. The confusing noise of battle flashing about her as the storm roared, the strength of the wind battering her face and making her stagger as she squinted uselessly about her.

"Medic!"  
"Medic!" Two calls, different directions. Patsy had crawled out behind her and was getting to her feet. All business, Delia turned to her companion and pointed wordlessly to the left, Patsy nodded seriously and ran in the direction indicated. Delia watched her go, hoping to God they would find some time after this to discuss what had happened. And maybe finish it, whined an uncomplicated inner voice. Snapping her attention back to the situation she sprinted to the remaining call. The gun fire intensified, volleys of bullets spraying from the muzzle of rifles on both sides. 

Between a canopy of high pines two soldiers were resting on the floor, rifles discarded. One was bending over another, holding two folded hands over the prone mans chest. Gun shot directly to the chest. Dropping the med bag Delia hurriedly rifled through the swathe of sterilised packets. The rubber bullet wouldn't be fatal but a real one would have meant this soldier would already be dead she was certain. Pulling free a pair of scissors she hastily cut through the layers of clothing until a dark haired chest was revealed. Already an angry purplish bruise was starting to appear along the center of his thorax. Mechanically she ran a gentle thumb down both sides of the rib cage, counting and noting every bump. Five broken ribs at least, the man groaned as she worked. The ribs were of little medical consequences, there was little to do but tape them up and wait for the body to repair itself, the bigger concern was a punctured lung, the force of the shot might have forced fragments of bone into the delicate organs. If so the man would need to be airlifted immediately to a local hospital and checked out properly with an x-ray machine. Hurriedly now, Delia dived back into her bag.  
"What's your name private?" The laying man did not respond, still groaning, eyes squeezed tightly in pain. He had a shock of dark hair and Delia, belatedly, recognised her patient and aid as the two men she had thought of as brothers who'd argued for an imminent strike against the other camps the day before.  
"Charlie. Charlie Bassett" shouted the other man, who really must be a brother, the resemblance too close to be anything else. His voice thick with panic as he cradled his fallen sibling, 'Is he going to be ok? They're just rubbers, he shouldn't be this hurt should he?"  
"Rubber bullets can still break bones. Now, Charlie, I need you to lay still while I listen to your chest for a minute, can you do that for me, hold your brothers hand while I do it ok?" Charlie nodded, teeth gritted and gasping as Delia stuffed the ear pieces of the stethoscope into her ears and bent to move the chestpiece slowly over the man's lungs. She sighed in relief as the sound of breaths wooshed in, no popping on the left side. The right side was a different story though, the faint popcorn rattle was unmistakable. Shit. Throwing down the stethoscope Delia began to pull out tourniquets and tried to make her voice cheery.  
"Right Charlie, this is not as bad as I thought but there's still a few niggly issues we're going to have to deal with. You've broken a fair few ribs and your right lungs not expanding as much as it should be. You're going to need to leave the exercise and go to hospital. Right, I'm sorry what's your name?" This she said to the brother.

"Billy Bassett, Charlie's my little brother. Is he going to be alright?" Billy looked petrified, suddenly a boy again as he worried about his brother.  
"He'll be fine, in a minute I'm going to need to find Buzz and tell him that he needs to ring an ambulance for Charlie. Before that though we need to stabilise Charlie. I need your help to tightly wind these bandages around his chest so that the bones don't shift about when we move him. Do you understand? Charlie, I won't lie to you this is going to hurt a lot but if we don't do it you could injure yourself further and then we really will have an emergency." Both men grunted as Delia placed the first run of bandages on Charlie's chest and began rolling it towards Billy.  
"Right when I give the signal we're going to lift you slightly to get the roll back to me from underneath. Okay, ready, one, two, three". Delia lifted the man and Billy rolled the bandage back under. Charlie screamed again, his face pale and sweat dripping down his nose. Delia ignored it, focusing only on making sure the bandage was as tight as possible. Billy started crying as his brothers whimpers filled the clearing but eventually the job was done. Panting, all three of them, Delia grimaced at her handiwork. The bandages were tight enough but the lung was an issue. Unzipping a side pocket of her bag Delia retrieved the hateful flag stickers and peeled off a red flag from its backing.

"What's that?" Billy asked breathlessly as Delia stuck the flag onto his brothers leg distastefully.  
"Triage flags. In battle we have to place coloured flags on anyone hurt to indicate that persons state." Billy frowned at the red as Delia began to flip open the sharps box and drew out a thick cannula needle.  
"Red? What does red mean?"Delia was only half listening, her forefinger busy tracking a thick vein in Charlie's arm and sliding the needle in.  
"Red means deceased. If this bullet was real Charlie would already be dead."The welcome splurge of blood in the little flashback chamber made her nod in satisfaction as she tugged out a bag of saline.  
"Deceased. What do you mean deceased, he's not going to die!" Billy was suddenly holding very tightly onto Delia's wrist, the grip uncomfortably firm, his expression black as the clouds above them. Delia stilled, her hand frozen where it had extended to attach the bag to the luer lock plug. Delia tried to hide the sudden tremor of fear at the look in the man's eyes.

"No, no Billy, Charlie's not going to die' she tried to force her voice to sound calm and professional, the hand holding the saline was beginning to go numb in the mans strong grip, 'but this is an exercise Billy, for all of us. I need to treat Charlie like I would if this was a real war zone and with the range of the shot Charlie would have died immediately from blood loss. But right now Charlie's not dying, he just needs fluids until an ambulance can get here. Will you let me help your brother Billy? Will you let go of my hand?"  
"Take the sticker off him and I will" said Billy angrily.  
"I can't do that Billy but I do need to give Charlie fluids. Let go of my hand private". The two of them stared each other down until Billy looked away, wiping at his eyes angrily. Delia tried to surreptitiously rub at the freed wrist. It hurt.  
"He won't die. Charlie wouldn't do that". Muttered Billy quietly.  
"I know it's hard' answered Delia soothingly as she connected the line and squeezed the bag until it began dripping down the chamber.

Wanting to get away from the mercurial Billy Delia passed the man the saline bag encouragingly.  
"This is saline, it's just going to replace any fluids Charlie's losing. I need you to stay with him until I can get an ambulance here, do you understand? You need to keep it above Charlie so the saline can travel down the tube." The man nodded frowning,  
"Where are you going?"  
"I need to go and see the others, other people might be hurt, I need you to stay here. Charlie shouldn't move." Delia was hurriedly repacking her bag as she got to her feet. The sound of gunfire had lessoned but the air still howled about her. The violence seeming to spur the weather to greater heights of brutality. 

Delia took one final assessment of patient and companion before turning back to the sound of battle ahead. Running as more screams met her ears. The scene was nothing short of one great massacre. Three different groups all firing at will from different sides. Squinting as a rubber bullet narrowly scudded past her ear she dropped to the ground, feeling the sting as her knee landed clumsily onto a ripped up stump, the sharp teeth of the ripped wood sinking into her knee painfully. Bag wobbling on her back she leopard crawled to where she thought she had seen Buzz behind a thicket of brash a little way off.

The air smelled liked burning. The group were ranged along a bank, firing towards the faceless enemy. Two more men were groaning, propped like forgotten tools against trees. Delia worked hurriedly, trying to catch a glimpse of the others, searching for a flash of red to indicate Patsy was here. Delia's bag was significantly lighter by the time she'd bandaged one mans suspected fractured wrist and another sprained ankle. The volleys and shots were waning as ammunition began to dwindle. Just as she completed a final dabbing of antiseptic onto a mans face where he'd managed to run into a tree branch in panic before the fight Delia felt a strong tap on her shoulder. Surprised she whirled round to meet to the expectant face of Buzz. The man indicated to Delia that she should follow him a little way away from the main group. Confused, Delia left her bag beside her latest patient and followed the group leader.

A few yards away Buzz turned to face her, the wind buffeting his jacket so the zips and buttons rattled slightly, he seemed to be assessing Delia, looking for something Delia couldn't identify.  
"It's Busby isn't it?" The mans voice was brusque, calculating. Buzz would make a good corporal one day thought Delia fleetingly as she nodded at the question.  
"How many serious wounded?"  
"Charlie Basset's got five broken ribs, he's near the camp with his brother and Bent and Broadley both need x-rays. The others seem generally alright and Pa- Nurse mount went off to deal with someone else. She's not back yet". Delia felt a shiver of worry about this final statement, where was Patsy? But Buzz seemed uninterested in this mystery as he nodded appreciatively at this information.  
"Good, good. Right Busby, I'm going to need your help with something, are you in?" Aware that the man had not actually explained what he wanted before asking Delia nodded an assent. A knot of tension curling in her gut. The commander clapped his hands together cheerfully.  
"Right, the others squads seem to have banded together in the south. My plan is simple. We're going to split in half, a two pronged attack on both sides. But to do that we're going to need a distraction, that's where you'll come in. I want you to walk down the middle, take one of the wounded and be as emotional as you can, tears and tampons sort of thing; all that girly crap, make them hesitate. Then, when their just stood watching we'll all make our move. They'll be like sitting ducks". Delia felt her spine stiffen at the misogynistic remarks but did not comment. She'd seen how the land lay yesterday, the women were not soldiers in the mens eyes.

"No one's that badly hurt Buzz, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather just be in with the attacking sides. Wouldn't one of the others be better than me." The man sneered at her, as though doubting her sanity.  
"The others, no, we need a little woman to do it. It'll be harder for the others to shoot you than one of us." Delia rolled her eyes at the fact that the world still hadn't changed that enough but nodded, teeth gritted. Buzz smiled victoriously and waved her off to call over a heavy set ginger man with a bloody hand.

Delia repacked her bag neatly as she watched the others get to their feet and split into two groups. Patsy still nowhere to be seen. The others, now arranged into their teams watched her expectantly as a man fake limped over to her, rifle slung across his front, his face despondent at being picked for this demeaning role. Delia shrugged on her medical bag and waited while the others crept along the row of trees on both sides like ghosts. Buzz remained close by, conducting his efforts with a single-mindedness that was chilling. After a few moments he raised his hand and made a sweeping gesture. Delia knew it was time to move. Sighing, adrenaline coursing through her body Delia wrapped one arm around her would be patient. Buzz fired off three shots behind them; their cue.

The man next to Delia began to shout loudly, his voice echoing harshly in the sudden silence. Wordlessly Delia, with the man's sly help, began dragging them both closer to the enemy.  
"Help! Someone help me!" Delia tried to inject her shouts with panic but wasn't entirely sure she managed it completely, humiliated at being the bait. There was no answer from the other side of the clearing, but no shots either so the plan must be working Delia concluded; hating Buzz for being right.

Together, the man heavy in her arms, Delia and the soldier made their way awkwardly through the empty space. Ahead she could see one or two faces peeking through leaves to watch them cautiously.  
"Help! Someone help him, he's hurt, someone help!" There was a rustle as though twenty soldiers were warily lowering their weapons.

"Now!" From two sides gun fire shattered the sudden quiet. There were shouts and squeals as men fell to the ground in pain, struck with bullets that still managed to hurt. Delia dived to the floor as a few stray missiles were aimed her way and lay across the soldier. Both their heads buried by foliage on the ground as the sounds of battle raged metres away.

After what seemed like an eternity the final rifle unloaded its cargo and a great roar swept over Delia. The melee appearing to have ended as abruptly as it had begun. Looking up she saw Buzz striding towards them, arms outstretched, unanimous in victory. Cheerfully he pulled both Delia and the other man to their feet and clapped them heavily on the back.  
"Brilliant, fucking brilliant Stubbs, we'll have you doing the Christmas panto by the end of the year. The scream was perfect. Good job Busby" he directed half assedly to Delia as he walked away, arm clasped round his colleagues shoulder merrily

Delia was left standing, hair tousled and face scratched by errant detritus's from the floor. There was groans from the fight zone ahead, calling her back to her duties. Tiredly Delia followed the never ending calls.

The rest of the morning and much of the afternoon seemed to be taken up with bandaging wounded, strapping and taping anything that seemed to stick out where it shouldn't do. Slapping on a variety of coloured flags and an exhausting requirement for constant positive bedside manners. It was only when the light began to fade again, the weather finally dissipating slightly did Delia find a break in the onslaught of work. Patsy had flashed in and out of her peripheral vision, apparently stalled at the camp by a man who had somehow managed to stab his foot with his own bayonet. How or why the man had managed to bring the damned thing when no one else had theirs was a mystery yet to be explained but Patsy had been forced to wait for the air ambulance to arrive for the idiot. She seemed just as absorbed in her tasks as Delia and Delia sighed as she concluded it would be much later before they found any kind of time away from the group to focus on each other.

She stood up and took a needed swig of water from her bottle as the shrill sirens of ambulances parked off in the field near the camp site, ready to pick up the one or two who needed further care. She watched keenly as Charlie was bustled into the back of the ambulance first, his body braced at the neck and covered in a burgandy blanket for shock. He still looked pale but the saline seemed to have prevented the man from going into serious shock. He'd be alright. Billy stepped beside her as the back doors slammed shut and the sirens blared as the ambulance sped off into the distance.

"Wanted to apologise' murmured Billy, a shade sheepishly as they watched the lights disappear form view, 'you were just doing your job and I shouldn't have spoken to you the way I did." Delia sighed, propping her water bottle on top of her now very depleted med bag as she turned to the dark haired man.  
"It's alright, it was a difficult situation, you reacted as anyone would if someone they cared about was hurt and I've had worse". It was the truth, people generally responded two ways on hearing a relative had died; anger or despair, two sides of the same coin really. She'd nearly been knocked out in training when she'd told a sweet old lady her husband had died in a car crash. People were complicated, Delia didn't tend to take it to heart anymore. 

"I wanted to say thank you by the way. The boys weren't too happy when they found out we'd be sharing camp with females but you and the other one have been really helpful today. For everyone. I know Buzz is a little bit shit at stuff like this but I wanted to tell you that the rest of us really appreciate what you've done. It's amazing, I know I couldn't do it. You're a real life superhero." Delia laughed at a mental image of herself in a cape and pants on top of spanx.  
"Thanks for that, but it's just my job." She reassured, amused.

"Well you do a really good job' smiled Billy, his teeth very white against the red and slight tan of his face. Delia grinned back, happy to find an ally in the team. They stood together, side by side as the others rushed about them. They needed to find somewhere to put the prisoners for the next two days. It would be a long time until anyone could relax fully. Billy cleared his voice, his eyebrows raised speculatively,  
"So, I was thinking, since you did such a good job and everything. Maybe I could buy you a drink during the weekends free pass to say thank you? One of the guys is planning a big night out in town, I thought maybe you could come' he hesitated before adding on the final part of his statement, the words drawn out and uncertain, 'with me maybe?" Delia frowned, taken aback at the offer, a flush of embarrassment creeping up her throat as she considered the man. He was handsome, dark hair framing a roman nose, thin lips and startling green eyes, a tempting offer to most women. Not for Delia though. Shaking her head slightly and thinking fondly of the scene in her tent this morning she offered a conspiratorial wink at the man.  
"That sounds lovely Billy but unfortunately I'm already taken. I don't think it would be right to lead you on or anything. But the party sounds good, my friend Trixie is already neck deep in planning herself, maybe your mate and her should get together. It could be the outing of the century that way. The man shuffled, rebuffed but not humiliated.  
"Ahh, I sort of thought you must already have someone already, girl like you probably has a load of men back in Wales waiting on tender hooks". Delia laughed thinking how wrong the man was as a sound of rustling made them both turn.

Patsy was stood behind them, bag in arms and a face like thunder, glaring at Delia and Billy as though they'd both offered her a personal insult. Delia opened her mouth to call out to Patsy but the red head was already gone. Stalking passed them, her shoulder barging into Delia harshly. Delia watched her go, a feeling of dread seeping into her bones. Surely Patsy hadn't heard that, and even if she did she would have heard Delia saying no wouldn't she? She couldn't possibly be jealous. Her face paling she looked over at Billy who was staring at Patsy's retreating back puzzled.  
"She seems like a bit of a live wire doesn't she?" The man asked amusedly. Delia sagged as she shouldered her bag hesitantly,  
"You have no idea" she muttered with feeling, walking back into camp, following Patsy's trail.

Patsy was back in the tent when Delia eventually caught up to her, repacking her bag which seemed nearly empty and studiously ignoring Delia as she shuffled into the small space. Delia sighed as she took in the decidedly cold reception and slung her own bag beside Patsy's.  
"Pat's what's wrong?" Don't do this, Delia willed herself to stay calm, don't shut me out. Patsy did not immediately reply, appearing focused on a small sack of stera-strips until Delia whipped it from her hands irritably.  
"Patsy, don't ignore me. What's the matter?" Patsy turned to look at her, the soft blue of the morning gone to be replaced by the cold colour of slate.  
"Nothing, I'm repacking my bag is that alright with you Busby". Delia felt her heart sink at the use of her last name.  
"Busby? Are you honestly going to pull this crap on me now. Patsy what's happened, why are you so angry?" Patsy inhaled through her nose as though holding back from shouting.  
"What were you doing out there exactly?" The words were quiet, the tone waspish like a hunter laying out a trap for stupid prey.  
"What was I? Oh for God's sake Patsy, I was working for christ sake!" Delia felt trapped, unable to steer herself from the argument that seemed inevitable but hating them both for that fact. Patsy raised an eyebrow,  
"Working? Is that what you call it. Is that what you were doing with that Soldier Delia, working?"  
"Fuck off Patience!" Delia felt insulted by the insinuation. Patsy turned back to her bag dismissively as though she had every right to call Delia a tart and turn away. Delia felt an unwanted lump in her throat at the sight.  
"I thought we were moving on, I thought you wanted to try 'us' again. After everything this morning-" Her wobbly words were cut off as Patsy spun back towards her like an unloaded spring.  
"After what? A quick grope in a tent and you thought everything would be back on; good as new. Is that what you thought? For God's sake Delia get a grip, it's not like I even knew what I was doing, believe me I wouldn't come within a mile of you if you paid me". The words sprayed out venomously, Delia shrank back, tears building behind her eyes as she gasped out a question.  
"Why are you doing this, I thought you'd changed."  
"No, you wanted me to change so you could fuck me and not feel bad about it" demurred Patsy turning once more to her pack. Delia watched her work, shaking at the play of emotion coursing through her, but numbly understanding why this was happening. Patsy hadn't changed all that much after all she thought sadly. Gently, Delia placed her hand on Patsy's back, feeling the muscles stiffen where she touched as she made one last effort to circumvent this disaster, her voice so thick she could barely get the words out.

"Don't do this. Please don't do this again Pat's. Don't shut me out. We've just been in a really scary situation and you're scared. You're thinking about other things, not us. I'm not interested in some random squaddie and you know it. This isn't about that; you're scared because something happened this morning and you're worried I'll run away again or it won't end well. You're scared you'll get hurt again. Patsy it's okay to be scared by this, hell I'm terrified... I know I left but there was no other option; now though... Pat's I'm not going to leave again if we try; I'm not your mum... I'm not Faith." Delia knew she'd pushed too far the moment the words were out of her mouth. Patsy wheeled about, face crimson with anger so that they were nose to nose.  
"Don't you dare, don't you fucking dare talk about Them and yourself in the same sentence. How dare you try and psychobabble me Delia Busby! If I wanted to talk about them I'd see a bloody shrink not you.' she got to her feet, shouldering her bag, 'we'll take it in turns to sleep from now on, the camps too dangerous and one of us needs to be present at all times. I'll take watch. Just stay away from me, understand?" Delia let her head bob as tears began to trickle down from the corners of her eyes.

The tent flap swooshed as Patsy stormed away. Delia stayed in the tent until it was time to swap over a few hours later, the two of them passing without exchanging any words. All the time, Delia berated herself for getting her hopes up. Patience mount would never change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Wipes face*
> 
> Phew, that was fun to write but bloody hell it's a lot to pack in. Hope the slight smut gave everyone enough of a fix to wait for a bit. It's going to be a little while before there's any more of that happening between these two I'm afraid!
> 
> Hope you enjoy
> 
> SB


	12. Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes

The two final days of the exercise passed by without further incident; eventually culminating in Delia's and one other squad being crowned joint winners having managed to evade capture successfully.

The victory had felt hollow, all of them too filthy and exhausted from a long days of storms and little sleep to enjoy it in any great way. Most of the squad had snoozed off on the journey home, the van filled with many unshaven faces lolling on the shoulders of their neighbours. Delia chose to sit beside Billy on the trip; trying to ignore the fact that Patsy was staunchly refusing to look at her and had done so ever since their argument in the tent.

On arrival back to Deepcut camp they had staggered from the van and in a bedraggled line limped to their respective dorms before stripping down, uncaring whether anyone was looking and dragging themselves off to stand beneath lukewarm showers, scrubbing accumulated dirt from their skin until they all resembled something akin to lobsters. They were blessedly given a day to sleep it off and after a long nap they'd all met in the canteen at Trixies insistence for a leisurely lunch to swap stories and catch up.

Patsy and Delia managed to avoid giving too many details from their own experiences and sat as far away from each other as they could, the return to being with the others a welcome cover to distract from the fact that they were still refusing to make eye contact. Barbara recounted to them all excitedly about a man who'd split his thumb nearly in half while trying to cock his trigger like a cowboy in the westerns and how no amount of bandages had managed to stem the bleed. Barbara told them how she'd been at a loss at what to do, confused why the blood hadn't slowed until the idiot had told her, off handedly, that he'd taken a ton of aspirin before the battle as the fool had heard from his mates thinner blood made you lighter on your feet. As one the assembled nurses rolled a collective, weary eye; some people would believe the moon was made of cheese if left to their own devices.

Chummy too was not without news as she blushingly provided a story of her own. Apparently, while the others were away the rest of the squad had been given lighter duties. Chummy had been told to organise the system for the store room. A place not too far from Major Knoakes's office as it had transpired. It appeared the two of them had enjoyed themselves, chatting shyly several times a day. This rather strange courtship would hardly be a bodice ripper of a story but on the final day the major had proved his bravery and asked Chummy out for dinner Saturday night. 

Most of the others squeeled with excitement at Chummys words, Delia gave a loud whoop and Shelagh, who'd bonded with Barbara and was tagging along, offered a high five which was met rather uncertainly by the tall woman who had been raised more for sturdy handshakes. Trixie however looked aggrieved,  
"Oh Chummy! That's this weekend, I've already planned everything to the letter. You're an absolute beast for dropping out at the twelth hour. Who's going to be the umpire in the pub golf now?" The others rolled their eyes and shot Chummy consoliatory glances at their friend's love of parties.

"Shhh Trix, if Chummys got a date someone else will just have to fill in the breach, this is brilliant news." admonished Barbara.  
"And anyway, I said no to the pub golf, we're just having a drink; no stupid games," Grumbled Patsy irritably. Trixie huffed, arms crossed over her chest sulkily.  
"You just hate to have a little fun! Honestly, its like getting blood from a stone sometimes Patience." The words were playfully thrown, just a light tease but Patsy seemed to take it to heart, stiffening in her seat as she pursed her lips.  
"If by fun you mean rat faced and puking in some dingy back alley by half eight then you'd be correct Beatrix!" Trixie blinked for a moment at Patsys words but was more than a match for a Patience Mount in a mood and raised a sardonic eyebrow,  
"Well excuse me from wanting to let loose a little. Not all of us want to live like nuns you know, fun isn't a dirty word." Patsy made as though to lean forward and Delia stepped in, trying to intervene. Patsy was not really annoyed at Trixie, Delia had a funny feeling she could guess where this was really coming from.

"Trixie, Pats didn't mean she didn't want to have fun, no one likes those games thats all, let's not fight." Delia wasn't exactly lying. Patsy could be fun... Sometimes. Not now though it seemed, Patsy whipped to look at Delia irritably and waved an admonishing arm towards her as though she were a fly who buzzed too close.  
"I don't need you to speak for me Delia, keep your thoughts to yourself! No one wants to hear what you have to say anyway, it's not like this group even wanted you tagging along, you just latched onto us and no ones brave enough to tell you to leave us the hell alone." Delia blushed, humiliated while Barbara gasped audibly and looked between them like a spectator at a tennis match.  
"Now really Patsy, there's no need to bite poor Delia's head off." scolded Trixie firmly but Patsy merely sank back into her chair and kicked the table leg bad naturedly,  
"You can keep out of it aswell Trix." She warned darkly.

Chummy broke the brewing fight up by patting Trixies arm consolingly, distracting her from a doubtless caustic reply to her churlish friend;  
"Don't be piqued old thing, I'm just quite keen on Peter. I've always been rather quiet on the chap front I'm afraid and it is only one night afterall."  
"Yes, but it's going to be one night of absolute excess Chummy." sighed Trixie exasperated, turning away from the grumpy Patsy.  
"Well, you girls will just have to enjoy it enough for me won't you." Chummy hummed, her thoughts evidently turning back onto the date.

Gradually, the conversation drifted onto other topics. Delia noticed that while no one outwardly changed their attitudes Patsy was not spoken to directly again, the others appalled by her attitude and seeming to think it best to leave her to get over whatever was bugging her in her own time. Eventually Patsy, seeming to realise she'd been sent to Coventry for a bit, walked away noisily, the door shutting behind her with a thump as she stomped through it, hands patting about her for the inevitable cigarette. Delia watched her leave from the corner of her eye in frustration. So much for being amicable in front of the others Pat's. 

Once Patsy had gone the room seemed to relax somewhat. The conversation kept flowing but Delia could sense the others hearts were no longer in it, they kept shooting her speculative looks when they thought she wasn't looking. Chummy, ever the lady, waited until the other three had stood up and were out of ear shot before broaching the subject that was already weighing heavy on Delia's mind;  
"Is everything alright Delia? Did you two have a horrid time together? I honestly don't know what to make of her talking to you like that". Delia stood up as Chummy hovered concernedly and walked to the big bins ranged along the wall, scraping the dregs of her lunch into the depths slowly before answering with a sigh. She'd promised Patsy, she didn't need another reason to deal with the womans ire.  
"It was alright, I think she must just be tired is all, I don't really blame her. It was pretty hard core out there. No ones at their best when they're fatigued are they, I'm sure she'll perk up by the end of tomorrow." Chummy had nodded when Delia said this but her face said very clearly she doubted it. Delia couldn't blame her, she did too.

The Saturday before the three days off passed by fairly quickly. The NCO's, clearly giving up on the hope the squad would be prepared to push themselves very much, were subsequently fairly lenient. They all endured only a few hours of PT and a relatively short run before being prepared with their passes. By three they were all lined up on the parade ground and given their marching orders. They all fixed their faces to the space slightly right of Smalls ear as they were informed in no uncertain terms that the pass was a privilege and that they were expected to purport themselves in a manner befitting of their uniform. With the final advice muttered to them of "whatever you end up letting hang out the back of you on weekend ladies just remember this isn't a maternity hospital and no one wants a soldier with leaking tits so make sure he wraps it up! Now get lost and have fun." the squad fell out of rank, the air humming with excitement. 

Trixie, ever the planner, had booked them all twin rooms in a local premier Inn and quickly she chivvied them to the dorms to pack their overnight bags, nearly floating with exultation that they could all put their uniforms away for a few days.

They caught a few mini buses to the hotel, Delia spotted Billy and a pale but laughing Charlie board a similar vehicle a little way off and waved at the pair cheerfully as she embarked. Behind her she heard Patsy sniff reproachfully but her refusal to speak to Delia unless absolutely necessary meant that she offered no further comment.

The group were wildly jolly as they took the thirty minute trip through rush hour traffic. Someone had managed to smuggle a blow up doll onto the bus and the male figure wearing nothing but a kitchen apron and a saucy grin bounced from chair to chair. Delia sat with Chummy, the two of them chatting about her date and where Peter could possibly take her afterwards. Chummy blushed when Delia asked about contraception and ventured that the major should most likely come prepared. A thought that sent them both into flurries of giggles. 

Patsy who was sitting beside Trixie kept casting the two of them dark looks as she chatted to her friend, Delia tried to ignore it as much as she could but the feeling of eyes on her made her squirm. Trixie, it seemed, was telling Patsy off about something, her hand gesticulating wildly to recapture the womans attention and Patsy's expression became sourer by the minute.

Once at the hotel they all loitered by reception as Trixie flirted with the tanned male receptionist and collected their keys. Handing them around to the others she gave dire warnings that they were to be kept safe during the night as her deposit would be lost if one went missing. Delia and Chummy hoiked their bags up to their twin room, depositing them down onto the matching orange pastel duvet cover clad single beds before wandering off in search of the others. 

Trixie insisted on predrinks before they got ready and served several cocktails in hers and Patsy's room. Delia couldn't remember the names of any of them but it left her mouth sticky and her tongue green. Patsy initially declined the first round but after a pointed look from Trixie sighed and folded herself onto the bed with the others taking the proffered glass. Delia felt surprised when Patsy rested her back against Delia's legs as the women chatted. They still hadn't managed to talk, Patsy always managing to duck away when she noticed Delia approaching her with a determined expression. It was strange that Patsy could ignore her for five days and then lounge casually on Delia without a word. Actually, mused Delia as she stared at the back of the Patsys head, it was more than strange, it was idiotic and fucked up. Impossible woman. 

Around eight they all split apart again to get ready for their night on the town. Chummy fidgeted in her a-line dress and watched admiringly as Delia slipped into a pair of skinny jeans and smart top before beginning to blow dry her hair into a bouffant style that she'd seen in one of Trixies magazines. She'd quickly painted on her make-up, added a few extra licks of mascara for luck and pulled her 'going out ' shoes onto her bare feet. They added several vital inches to her height and Delia, aware that the evening would be full of alcohol and the presence of a snappish Patsy, felt a little better knowing she would be taller tonight than usual. 

Chummy bade her goodbye as they exited their room, Chummy, as the one less likely to be outright drunk tonight took the key, promising to wake up and open it for Delia when she and the others rocked up early in the morning. Cheerfully Delia watched the woman go, hoping that this Peter was a good man. Chummy deserved that.

Trixie, Patsy, Barbara, Shelagh and a few others were milling about the reception area when Delia arrived. Trixie looked nothing short of sex on legs, her dress was white with lace holding it together on both sides, her hair though still short had returned to its familiar peroxide hue and shone in the florescent lighting. Her make-up was, of course, perfect and her legs seemed to go on for miles in a pair of shoes that Delia was certain must have cost her more than a months wages. Barbara had apparently taken the concept of a wild night out literally and her face was covered in glitter tiger stripes, her dress was less flashy than Trixies and she wore a cardigan over her shoulders and a sturdy leather bag on a thin strap over her shoulder. Shelagh looked neat and tidy if a little dull in a high necked summer dress that she would probably regret very quickly considering it was coming to the end of October. 

Patsy stole Delia's attention immediately but she forced herself to take in the others first, not wanting anyone to realise she was staring, although perhaps they might have understood... Patsy looked hot. Even in their current state of ill repressed resentment and confusion Delia could not prevent her eyes from lingering on the red heads appearance. She too wore jeans and a button down shirt, black for Patsy (an irony not lost on Delia) but she wore it in the same way aeroplanes wore the sky, the woman had style in her pores and it was maddening. She, at nearly 6 foot, had foregone heels and instead wore light brown Chelsea boots, the real thing naturally, and her hair was draped about her like a veil, the faint flash of a pale neck snuck through the red sporadically. Her make-up was light and made her eyes impossibly bluer. Delia wanted to cry. Why did she have to look so bloody good all the time? Couldn't the woman just have an off day like everyone else? Patsy seemed to feel her staring and turned about to survey Delia right back. Then, slowly, so slowly that there was no way Delia could miss it, Patsy looked her up and down before blinking lazily at her. What the hell did that mean? Delia clenched. 

Trixie interrupted the moment by walking into their line of sight, clapping her hands together to break up the chatter and unfurled a map dotted with little red squares.

"Right ladies, I've prepared our route and calculate that we should all be merrily gone by here' she indicated a dot half way up the line to the others general amusement, 'as requested there will be no games,' she shot a long suffering look at Patsy who bowed to the group, 'so the plan is to drink as much as you possibly can and if anyone buys you a drink you must accept, no declines or excuses. Tonight, we're free!" The squad cheered merrily and stepped out together, arms linked into the dark promise of the night.

The first two pubs they entered were fairly quiet, they all drank pints and mixers, calling one another loudly and drawing out the other patrons to join in their jokes. A few broke off to play on the pool tables at the back, Shelagh surprising them all by being exceptionally good. Delia ended up watching two games of pool as she sucked down her third drink. Shelagh was potting balls like a pro and the others were making bets on the Scot, the jingle of coins as they bounced on the surrounding wood rang out in the air. Delia's concentration was so thoroughly invested in the match that it broke only when a body slid behind her a little too close than propriety called for. Surprised and half preparing to warn some drunk away she turned around to see Patsy who was standing there, apparently watching the match intently and still ignoring Delia entirely directly behind her.

They stood only for a minute before Patsy left but Delia felt the warmth leach from her back far more slowly. Patsy had returned to the bar after that and was laughing with Barbara, seemingly engrossed. She didn't look back over to the game again or Delia who stood there puzzled. It's the beer she told herself, it must be making her a bit less uptight.

By the fourth pub the nightlife appeared to be waking up, the small venues were beginning to grow crowded, the squad lost from view as the bodies pressed together around them. Delia would have enjoyed such an environment usually were it not for Patsy, who seemed to suddenly always be a hands width away; at the bar passing out drinks, in a crowd her hands sliding swiftly to Delias hips as she brushed past, in the queue for the toilets, crossing her in doorways. Every time it seemed that there was a reasonable possibility for Patsy to touch her. Still though she said nothing. It was maddening and Delia felt herself become more and more on edge at each occurrence.

By the sixth bar everyone was more than a little drunk. This alone seemed to be the reason why they all agreed so loudly when a random man who'd attached himself to the group suggested a nightclub ten minutes walk from where they were. Again miraculously Patsy was disconcertingly close at hand. 

The pink lady was a nightclub set up in the basement of a local shopping centre. The group all trapsed down the steps into the cavernous space that was already teeming with people. The music seemed a good mix of trashy pop from the nineties and a few modern remixes. Delia felt her last nerve fail when Patsy passed her again, her hand trailing across her shoulders this time. This wasn't an accident. Did Patsy really think she wouldn't know what she was doing? Wheeling about she stuck out an arm to prevent Patsy's retreat, her eyes boring into the taller woman shrewdly.  
"What are you doing exactly?" 

Patsy seemed taken aback at Delia's forthrightedness and stepped back, hand reaching up to muss her hair in a would be casual way that told Delia she was nervous. Old tells, Delia knew them all.  
"I don't know what you mean." Was Patsy's rather weak reply. Delia tilted her head disparagingly at the faux honest voice.  
"Patsy I'm not stupid, you've not spoken to me since camp and now your feeling me up and walking away. That's not fair." Patsy blushed and rubbed her hair again.  
"Well that's just... don't be an- if that's what you want to believe Delia than be my guest."  
"It's the truth!' Delia sighed wearily, frustrated, 'Pats we really need to talk about this, what happened in the tent-" Patsy stiffened and leaned further back as though Delia was contagious somehow.  
"Nothing happened in the tent as far as I'm concerned, there's nothing to discuss." Her tone brooked no argument but Delia felt her stubborn side flair up at the red heads denial.  
"Yes there is, there's a lot to discuss Patsy and it won't go away just because you want it to.' she let her voice soften as she noticed Trixie watching them from the bar speculatively, 'Look, why don't we go somewhere quieter and just take a bit of time?" Patsy shook her head, biting her lip.  
"There is nothing to discuss, I told you before Delia leave me alone will you. God, you run out on me and now you're acting like we're still together or something, its pathetic." 

Delia snapped, all at once her patience running dry. Sometimes it was exhausting being the only adult between them.  
"And you're acting like a moody teenager so it would seem I'm in good company then." Patsy sneered and pushed Delia's arm out of the way dismissively.  
"Whatever Delia, we're through here." Delia watched her walk away, teeth clenched and unbelievably frustrated.  
"Fine" She called after her but Patsy gave no sign that she'd heard. 

Delia seethed in her spot. Fine. Fucking fine. That. Was. It. Delia didn't have to deal with Patsy, she wasn't her problem. OK, they'd fooled around in that tent. So what! If Patsy didn't care then neither would Delia! Stupid, idiotic, stubborn, gorgeous, irritating, sexy as hell woman! Fine! Delia was done. She was so bloody done right now that done was not a strong enough verb. Finito, finis, end of the road. Delia took a breath of stale air through her nose. Right, she was over this. She was out on a night on the town, she was going to get monumentally drunk and have fun. Patsy might be a misery guts but Delia didn't have to be.

Helpfully Barbara chose this moment to wave over at Delia from further along the bar to Patsy and Trixie waving a drink with gusto. Without preamble Delia swept past Patsy who stared at her moodily and took the glass, downing it in one before coughing and rubbing at burning eyes in surprise. That was a triple, shit. Spluttering she nodded at Barbara who just grinned appreciatively and tapped the bar for refills.

Several more drinks later Delia was feeling rather philosophic about the situation; it was fine really, they never would have worked out anyway... Following Barbara's lead she shimmied out onto the dancefloor. Together Delia and Barbara went to town with a impromptu robot display, Babs turned out to be fairly good at the moonwalk while Delia managed a perfectly timed boomerang maneuver that made the watching crowd cheer. When Barbara exited back to the bar for another drink Delia remained where she was managing to synch up with another group during the cha cha slide. 

Barbara did not return at the end of the song but Delia hardly noticed. She'd become distracted when a pink haired woman began grinding up to her. Laughing, Delia allowed the move and joined in. This continued well through another four songs until Delia broke away sweating and offered to buy the girl a drink.

At the bar Delia could feel Patsy's eyes glaring at her by the raising of the hair on her neck but through the press of bodies and the flashing lights she couldn't quite pinpoint her location. Good. Let her see exactly how fine Delia was about Patsy's dismissal. Delia levelled a flirty grin to the pink haired woman beside her and ordered them a round of drinks, ignoring the burning sensation on the back of her head as they smiled at each other, conversation being practically impossible in the din of music. When Delia offered the drink to the girl she was slightly shocked when she received an answering snog from her companion.

The kiss was drunkenly aimed and filled with nose bumps and teeth. It was a first kiss; Delia's first kiss with Patsy had been in her student halls when Delia had received distinction in her final essay from her second placement. They hadn't nose bumped once. The pink haired woman detached herself and poured the drink into her mouth whole before winking and bending very close to Delias ear and whispering,  
"You want to come back to my place?"

Delia hesitated, faintly aware the moment was going a tad faster than anticipated but she quickly rallied. Maybe this was what she needed; uncomplicated sex with someone who didn't share a convoluted past with herself. Blushingly Delia nodded and the woman grinned, predator like before waving her phone and pointing a thumb to the exit. Delia nodded and pointed to Barbara who was now doing a line of shots with Shelagh. The woman seemed to understand and turned around quickly, dialling in a number and dissappearing from view.

Delia watched Barbara for a moment, considering telling her where she was going but decided against it eventually. She'd text Trixie later she decided. Pushing herself away from the bar she clumsily tried to weave her way through the crowd.

Delia was surprised when a hand reached out from the darkness a few minutes later and grabbed her wrist viciously. Vaguely, she was aware she was being towed backwards very quickly through a doorway, the fleeting flashes of colour from the dance floor rushed past her vision before a door was closed blocking it from sight and she was being pinned none too gently against the ceramic tiled wall of a disabled toilet.

Patsy hovered in front of her face, pale and enraged but swaying slightly; just as drunk as Delia was by the look of it. Two hands were placed either side of Delias head as Patsys came closer, the press of her body caging Delia to the spot.  
"Patsy, what-" Delia tried to sound appropriately shocked and sober but the voice that sprung out of her mouth was still slurred as she stared up at the taller woman in surprise.  
"What are you doing?' Patsy interrupted, voice husky and harsh. 'I saw you with that woman, where did you think you were heading off to?" Her voice was just as slurred as Delia's and her eyes looked hurt; accusing. Delia shook herself, angry at the never ending feelings of regret Patsys presence evoked in her and of the faint tremor of guilt she felt at the back of her mind.

"That's none of your business, I can do what I like thanks." Fuck you and your guilt. Delia tried to shrug off the woman but Patsy shook her head violently and refused to budge.  
"No... N-no Deel's. You are exactly my business, you are exactly the thing I need to know' she hiccuped, 'I need to know if you're going off to fuck some other woman. I can't let you do that." Delia swelled with anger at Patsys presumption, tugging harder on the restraining arm beside her.  
"There is no 'other woman' Pats, I'm a free agent, I can do what I want." Patsy eyed Delia through half closed eyes doubtfully, her tone filled with Dutch courage and ill-conceived certainty.  
"No you're not Delia. You're mine." Delia opened her mouth to trot out any number of reasons why that statement was untrue but was saved the trouble when Patsy stole her lips with an unexpected, passionate kiss.

Delia felt the touch like lightning in her at the contact. Fully aware she should push Patsy away she found herself groaning into the kiss, her hands helplessly reaching up to hold the woman closer. Impossible, stupid woman. Patsy was too much, always too bloody much. A tongue slid into Delia's mouth and she met it, swipe for swipe as they dueled for supremacy. Patsy was more aggressive than Delia remembered her being. Patsys hand was creeping to Delias jeans, fingers groping for the button as teeth bit down on Delia's bottom lip. At the contact Delia froze remembering the unfair words and long silences from the last few days. 

Disengaging roughly she pushed at Patsys chest forcefully and, to her delight, Patsy stumbled back unbalanced. Stalking her movements, Delia stepped forward, backing the red head up to the other wall, reversing their positions of power. Angrily she ground her crotch into Patsys and felt a shockwave strike her as the woman threw her head back in wordless supposition. The concept that Delia could do that, could make Patsy yield just for a moment, made her shiver. For once Delia wasn't the only one not in control. Powerless to stop herself Delia brought her lips to the womans proffered neck and bit down gently.

"Is this what you want? Is this what you really want?" She bucked a little harder against the taller woman and felt stirred at the replying gasp.  
"Did you want to fuck me instead of her tonight Pats?" Jerkily Delia let her hands wrap around the woman and untucked the black shirt, grabbing handfuls of cotton and pulling it violently from Patsys own jeans, letting her hands grope the skin of Patsys back without fear, teeth gritted as she appreciated the toned muscles she felt there built in weeks of hard PT training. 

"Did you just expect me to bend over for you because you said a few words, do you really think I'm that easy?" Patsy panted, her head shaking side to side slowly as Delia unclipped the clasp of her bra hurriedly, pinging the elastic as she did so. Frustrated at the still fastened buttons before her, hiding what she wanted, Delia wrenched her hands back to Patsys front and began to undo them roughly, uncaring if they came away under her heavy handed ministrations. This was going to be on her terms damn it, Patsy wasn't the only one more than a little frustrated by her exes behaviour tonight.

"Is this why you pulled me in here Pat's, do you want me to just let everything go and fuck you until you cum with me buried knuckle deep in you, here, in this horrible nightclub toilet?" The shirt was open now, the bra hanging uselessly where it had been undone as Delia bent her head to roll a coral nipple into her mouth, scraping her teeth along the teet just enough to make Patsy keen and moan.  
"Is that what you want Patsy, is it?" Angry tears were building behind her eyes, blinding her; at them both, at how idiotic they both were. Delia groped at the yet untasted breast, allowing the warm weight of it to fill her expectant palm.  
"Yes' choked Patsy euphorically, 'yes, I want that, I want you to stay tonight and fuck me instead of her. I want you with me. You knew I hated seeing you touch her, you knew it but you still did it. You're mine."

Delia felt like something animal had roared up from within her, it purred in satisfaction at the red heads words but she couldn't let go of the moment so easily. Delia allowed herself to gentle slightly, the anger draining as she let her hands stroke the hot flesh; marking what was hers proprietorially.  
"Is that what you want Patience, you want tonight?" Her lips lathed a path along Patsy's throat, wanting to bite and suck.  
Patsy quivered, hands clenched on Delia's shirt for support as she shook.

"Yes! I want tonight." Delia let herself drift down again, sucking the other nipple thoughtfully in the way she recalled was sure to make Patsy gush.  
"Tonight? Just tonight Patsy, that's what you want?" Delia let her now free hands drift down to slowly unsnap Patsy belt, the hiss of the buckle as the tongue of the belt was pulled from its loop seeming to sizzle in the air.  
"Problem is Pats, that I don't just want tonight.' The belt sprang apart and hung forlornly as Delia moved onto the button, her mouth still resting softly at Patsys breast, 'I want tomorrow as well, and the next day, and the next and pretty much every day after that. Do you want that too Pats?" Patsy panted, appearing not to be giving the conversation her full attention as the button was opened and Delia pulled down the fly slowly, teasing Patsy or herself she didn't really know anymore.

"I said' Delia nibbled on a collar bone as it caught her gaze, 'is that what you want Patsy, because I can't keep doing this with you if you don't want that too. I really want to...' She broke off with a moan as her fingers scraped along satin underwear and felt her tongue swipe out to lick her suddenly dry lips, 'but only if you say it. Say you want that too.' They both sighed, Patsy lowered her face so their foreheads rested together as they breathed the same air harshly.

Delia felt her voice tremble as she shoved the pretty fabric out of the way and let her fingers be inveloped by the impossibly hot heat that proved just how much Patsy was hoping for this. Delia felt her hips buck as a sob she hadn't been aware had been building in her burst free from her mouth. She let her lips rub Patsy's as she twisted her head this way and that like a dog shaking off water. Wanting the answer, needing Patsy to just say she wanted all of this as much as Delia did. 

"Say it" a beg, a plead for the truth even as Delias fingers flicked the womans clit and she felt Patsy twitch beneath her, 'just say it Cariad, please." She rested her finger at Patsys entrance, waiting.

"I can't.' Patsy's panicking answering sob struck Delia like a physical blow, the response as quick as though she'd doused Delia in ice, it made Delia sink her face into the sweaty expanse of the womans neck in despair and fatigue, 'I can't say that Deel's, don't make me." Patsys eyes brimmed with tears as she gulped, trying to catch her breath. Delia felt herself nod mechanically, finally broken, the animal inside howled in misery as they stood skin to skin, their chests beating in perfect time.

"Then I can't do this." Simple words for such a big meaning. Delia stepped back, pulling her hands away as Patsy groaned and tried to raise her hips to follow her. Dazedly, Delia tucked in her shirt. Resolute but dying somewhere inside.

"Where are you going?" Asked Patsy, confused as to why Delia had stopped.  
"I've got someone waiting for me, I can't do this." Delia answered, her mouth feeling numb.  
"You're going to still go, after this?" disbelief shimmered in her voice as Patsy tried but failed to stand up straight.  
"Especially after this,' Delia smiled feeling the muscles contract painfully at the how wrong the expression was, 'you don't want me the way I want you, if we go any further I don't think I'll be able to stop.' she shrugged, 'I need to go". Turning slightly, trying to stop herself from crying in front of Patsy Delia was once again encumbered by a firm hand on her wrist.

"You'll still be thinking of me when you're inside her" Patsys voice was hoarse and accusing, still naked above the waist and beautiful to look at. Too beautiful, the diamond edges of Patience Mount would cut Delia like hot blades in butter if she let them.

"Maybe." Was all the answer Delia could give as she walked away. Her body screaming with need and the ache of another missed opportunity.

The loud music of the sound systems were jarring as Delia stepped back into the darkened club, the incessant pounding beat of some annoying pop song blarred out through the speakers and made her head throb horribly. Forcing herself not to dwell on her decision Delia staggered along the corridor and up the flight of stairs which flashed at her, purple, pink, blue and white from the tube lighting taped to each steps rim.

Bleerily, she stepped past the tall black bouncer who still stood near the front door, massive hands clasped loosely in front of him. He nodded disinterestedly at Delia as she stepped away from the club into the cool night air of the street outside. 

The fresh breeze made Delia stumble, coaxing out the alcohol into her system. She really was pretty smashed. Up ahead the pink haired woman; Kate? Jenny! Abigail? Delia couldn't quite recall the name, was miraculously still waiting for her apparently. Phone in hand and shifting from foot to foot. She seemed to straighten when she saw Delia walking towards her.

"I thought you weren't coming." The woman called, somewhat hesitantly. Delia smiled as she came close and let her arms fall across the womans shoulders lightly.  
"Well I haven't yet but there's still time." She replied honestly, feeling a dead sort of giggle run up her throat. The woman grinned somewhat nervously in return and stroked Delias hand.  
"Is that so?" Delia felt her body throb, still frustrated at her inability to sate its hunger.  
"How far away did you say your place was?"

The woman managed to flag down a taxi pretty swiftly, maybe she'd already ordered it before Delia arrived. Together they chambered into the posh electric Honda and let the purring motor take them away from the nightclub and everyone in it.

The drive was less than passionate though, the feeling of movement made Delia swoon and she was forced to press her cheek to the cool glass of the taxi to prevent herself from dropping her guts out. The cab driver eyed her apprehensively the entire journey, clearly aware how drunk his inhabitant was and concerned for his neatly maintained upholstery.

By the time they disembarked, Delia shoving a crumpled twenty into the mans clammy hand, all Delia really wanted to do was fall asleep to a mournful Celine Dion CD. Her companion, clearly non plussed by her sudden reticent behaviour unlocked her front door with shaking hands, fingers clumsy with the ring of keys. The incessant jangling bit at Delia's head like a saw as she slumped slightly against a helpful rodedendrum bush while she waited.

It was a pretty modern town house, clearly shared digs, the outside street looked smart, the parked car's in the neat drives all had licence plates less than five years old. When they both crept into the dark hall they were greeted by a stack of hats resting on the bannister and a bowl of what looked suspiciously like condoms beside it. Apparently embarrassed, the girl, Delia really needed to try and remember her name, threw her coat over them, hiding the things from view as she shot Delia an apologetic look;  
"My flat mates have this joke where you need to put a hat on the door knob if you have company. Sorry about that." She explained shame facedly. She was very pretty Delia realised belatedly, younger than her, still mid twenties. She might not have anything else in common with Delia but a penchant for crap 90s pop music and saphic tendencies but she was free and this was simple. It should be easy. This should be enough damnit!

Delia felt frustrated as she wearily accepted the fact that this wasn't enough though, that no matter how far she walked away Patsy still wasn't gone from her mind. Delia had gone to Wales for six years for fucks sake and yet here she was; still as messed up over a woman who couldn’t commit to dinner let alone a relationship. Why couldn't Delia just let them go? It was so pathetic. Why couldn't she just snip away the ties that bound them even now? She wondered if Patsy had tried to follow her when she left the toilets and sighed at her own foolishness. It was all so messed up.

Her attention was pulled back to the present as the unnamed woman before her coughed loudly casting her a concerned look;  
"You're not going to yak up everywhere are you? Only, we're out of bleach and the girls will kill me if I get a stain on the carpet and we lose the deposit. The landlords a right tyrant." Delia shook her head, somehow making her whole torso shudder at the same time unsure if she'd be made a liar yet. They stood in the hallway, the moment stretching out before them awkwardly as two strangers came to the same conclusion that they probably wouldn't achieve the thing they came here to do tonight. Delia swayed slightly, willing herself not to fall over or puke.

"Umm, do you want some water?" The woman asked kindly if somewhat dissapointedly, waving vaguely towards a doorway that must lead to the kitchen. Patsy probably wouldn't have done that, she'd have stormed off and made acerbic comments. Why couldn't Delia just choose someone simple? To her horror, the tears Delia had been trying to stem made their appearance finally, surprising both her and the other woman with their abrupt beginning. This woman was perfect; she was nice and normal and not a fuck up and Delia wasn't even remotely interested. What the hell was wrong with her? 

A hand patted her shoulder hurriedly as the woman glanced up the stairs as though worried they'd wake someone with their noise.  
"Shh, jeez I'm sorry. I'm so rubbish at this. I've never actually picked a girl up before, I don't really know what I'm doing here." Hazily realising the woman must think Delia was crying because of something she had done or said Delia sobbed harder and let herself be steered into a clean, modern kitchen and sat at a scrubbed wooden table.

"I'm s-s-sorry,' Delia managed to choke out throatily, 'its really not you. I've just had a lot- a lot of stuff recently to deal with. An ex popped up and I'm really... I'm really trying not to be a mad woman in your house right now but I just... I don't know what to do anymore!" The woman was staring at her, non plussed but still kindly and squatted down to rub Delia's shoulders as they shook.  
"I can see that. Look, I'm sorry I asked you back to mine. I probably pushed a bit too much."  
"It's not your fault!" Bawled Delia, hands pressed to her eyes as though trying to stem the flood by force. "I came here to prove something to Patsy and she probably hates me and she's an idiot and I've really fucked it up now. I don't... I don't know what to do anymore!" The woman, now clearly out of her depth entirely made soothing noises distractedly as Delia bent double with the force of her grief.  
"Patsy? Is she the ex?" Delia nodded violently, shivering with renewed sobs.

And so it went on, Delia drunkenly recounted everything; London, Patsy, going to Wales, joining the army, the exercise, how hurt she'd been the last few days as Patsy ignored her, the club, the fight or whatever that had been until, finally, she ran out of words, the tears ran dry; nothing left to say. The woman had left her squat to sit at another chair blinking at Delia, apparently stunned. Exhausted and embarrassed Delia rubbed snot from her nose as she sniffed pathetically.

"So, you still really love her then?" The woman asked hesitantly, as though afraid the question might provoke more tears from her solemn companion. Delia sighed, head near bursting with the pressure in her skull.  
"Yes...no, I don't know, its so confusing to think about her, she's just... I don't know, difficult to box up neatly a lot of the time." She answered wearily.  
"But you want to be with her?" The woman probed, Delia grunted,  
"doesn't matter either way, Patsy doesn't want me back." 

Across the way the woman shook her head and laughed bitterly.  
"Look, from the sounds of it she was ready to jump you for dancing with me, that's not neutral, uninterested behaviour. She just sounds scared of full commitment, but even if she doesn't say it, it's pretty clear to me you're both involved in something. Whatever you want to call it, you sound like a couple already, you just haven't given it the official label. People who don't care don't do things like that,' she sighed wistfully, 'I've never been in love like that."

Delia blinked and huffed ruefully;  
"hope you never do, it sucks." The two of them sat there for a little while longer, both lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, the woman cleared her throat and glanced at her watch regretfully,  
"I need to go to bed..." Delia sagged slightly as she realised she'd probably be a date night horror story in this house by the morning and took her cue.  
"I should go then, do you mind if I call a taxi from here, the hotels a bit far." Apparently satisfied Delia would not linger the woman agreed happily and they waited as a taxi was summoned and arrived. The parting was luckily swift as the womans phone vibrated as Delia stepped through the threshold and she was distracted when she waved Delia off by a message.

The cab ride to the hotel was almost as bad the one to the anonymous womans house. Delia felt sweat on her neck as she struggled to control her breathing while the town wooshed beyond her dizzyingly.

Once at the hotel Delia nearly fell through the taxi door before struggling to her feet and stalking wobbly through the lobby to her corridor. Once there she stumbled across the thick carpet to reach her door, received and knackered; ready for her bed.

BANG, BANG, BANG!

Delia pounded at the unmoving door ferociously, surprised at how loud it sounded. The cheap dark wood echoing loudly in the quiet of the sleepy space.

Chummy, it seemed, was either so deeply asleep that Delias knocks were white noise, or, and this was more likely, her date with major knoakes had gone better than anticipated and she wasn't there.

Delia didn't begrudge her friends success in her relationships, one of the should get things right goodness knew, but it was a definite road block that Chummy had the only key. Delia half considered walking back to the front desk but couldn't quite stomach speaking to the bored but amused twenty something receptionist as she drunkenly tried to explain how she'd come to be locked out at four in the morning. 

Giving up on her fruitless attempts Delia sank down to the floor, her back sliding down the wood and rumpling her shirt as she fell. Legs splayed out untidily in front of her she dropped her shoes from her burning feet, letting them thump to the floor in front of her. The carpet was actually quite comfortable she mused, maybe she could just bed down here.

As far as nights out went, this one had been a rollercoaster she hadn't been ready for she thought sleepily, too tired for dramatics right now. Her feet had grown used to flat soles and all encompassing leather in the last six weeks, her heels hurt more than they used to. Her hair had been ruffled about so much that most of the laquer had worn away so that it sat quite deflated piled atop her head. She was undone in every sense, her mother would be ashamed.

Delia peered down the hall bleerily and tried to recall which room the others had been in before remembering sharply that she probably wouldn't be welcome their tonight. Or any other night for that matter.

Patsy was definitely going to be cool tomorrow. Delia wasn't sure she could be bothered to worry about that right now though. The carpet seemed to be oozing around her, the thick pile sinking to hold her. Patsy would have brought her back here if Delia had let her. It'd be Trixie in the corridor and Delia passed out in the red heads room; in her arms. Safe and content. Probably satisfied sexually if nothing else.

As though summoned by the strength of Delias thoughts alone a door slid open down the corridor. Patsys head was thrust into the crack and looked left and right irritably amused to see who was making the racket before freezing when she took in the source of the noise. Immediately, the eyes closed off, shutters slamming home, the faint smile fading away as she glowered down at Delia sitting on the floor. Accusing, hurt and pissed off all wrapped in a pretty package. Delia's head had so little room to feel anything but numb exhaustion she only managed to blink back at the red head foolishly. Her mascara had run, she probably looked a bit panda eyed at the minute. Of course Patsy had removed her make-up, her skin looked pink and fresh. Delia wondered if that was true for the skin underneath those striped pajamas and childishly hoped to herself that some of the marks she'd left on the woman would last a little longer than tonight.

From within the room Trixies slurred voice asked who was banging, her voice muffled by what sounded like the duvet. Patsy stared at Delia, her lip curling dismissively as she considered her answers, she rocked slightly as though torn; halg wanting to step out the room and shout at Delia with the door shut, the other to walk away. Eventually she settled on just firing off a final parting shot.  
"No one important."

The door slammed loudly as Patsy dissappeared behind it. From behind the wall Delia let the faint trebles of laughter wash over her like salt on an open wound. 

After a few minutes, when it became clear no one else was going to get up or come to her aid she shuffled to her feet despondently. The receptionist beckoned even as the dream she had been secretly harbouring seemed to drift further and further away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we go, more angst, more smut (I surprised myself there). Not entirely happy with this, again I always feel like im rushing, but it has been three days since my last update and I was getting withdrawal symptoms!
> 
> I hope you like it people and I apologise if its a bit of a mess. Delia's in quite a big one herself!
> 
> SB


	13. Shall shine the Holy glimmers of goodbyes.

Delia had woken the next morning inexplicably sticky, with hair plastered to the side of her face where she'd passed out on the carpet, her mouth tasted like something had set up camp in it during the night and worst of all was the deepening sense of beer fear that hit her the moment she opened her eyes to the weak light filtering through the thin curtains. 

Groaning a little at every sound she had stripped and stood under the prissy little hotel shower hoping faintly she might manage to drown herself before having to speak to anyone else, only recalling ten minutes after this that she could probably benefit from a wash and set about fumbling to reach the shampoo/shower gel/ conditioner/ food of the Gods/ Petrol/ moisturiser and whatever the hell else was stuffed into the shot sized containers in the shower cubicle floor for the hotels patrons. Eventually clean, on the outside at least, Delia shrugged on the pyjamas she hadn't managed to get on the night before and stumbled into the still made bed.

She'd napped lightly feeling miserable, occasionally venturing far enough to the noisy kettle on the sideboard and emptying the tea and coffee selection basket. By her fourth caffeine injection she had perked up enough to flick on the television and find the movies channel. By the grace of the God alone she managed a stroke of luck and clicked onto the opening credits of 'An Officer and gentleman'. She watched raptly as an emotionally stunted man learned to love while fixing his career and tried not to consider that she could possibly be projecting a little too much into it. When Syd committed suicide Delia was in floods. The final scene had Delia sighing wistfully as Richard Gere came and got his girl; it had been the romantic scene to inspire her own rather childish fantasy that she'd find an exciting girl one day who'd come and take her away from her boring life in Wales. She'd done it herself in the end though, she'd taken herself into London and then ran headlong into Patsy. Maybe she should have stayed where she was... 

She was rescued from her melancholy by Chummy who knocked on the door around midday. Mastering herself Delia managed a raised eye brow and parental expression as she opened the door onto the blushing private who was still wearing her outfit from the night before and an extremely broad grin. It had been hard to remain gloomy in Chummy's company; her happy glow infectious.

They'd gone to a little restaurant off the beaten track. By all accounts it had been a rather shy evening, the pair nervous. After the meal, an excellent risotto with sea bass, they'd nipped into a wine bar and somehow, managed to get drunk enough that they were capable of carrying out a normal conversation. The evening had gone on from their apparently. Chummy had been unable to contain her victorious blush as she informed Delia seriously that Peter had indeed been a gentleman and prepared with contraception. The two of them fell into fits of giggles as Delia balked at the slight over sharing of information. They managed a further half an hour before Chummy recalled she had not been the only one busy the evening before and asked about the night out. Delia managed to fend most of the serious questions off; trying to seem interested in Barbara's glitter make-up and Shelagh's unexpected pool expertise. By three the conversation had exhausted itself out and the two of them napped side by side on the bed until six when Trixie knocked on the door with a bottle and a cajoling expression.

"You're mad! I don't know how you're walking right now let alone planning on going back out. I'm ruined" Delia said half despairingly, half impressed. Trixie threw her head back with far too much energy than was decent in Delia's opinion and laughed.  
"Oh, come on, you're a pair of old maids. We've got one night left and I plan to make the absolute most of it. You two are one of my last shots. Everyone's so miserable today, even Patsy's ducked out on me. Be a sport why don't you." Delia and Chummy shared a despairing glance and shook their heads firmly.  
"It's as you said, we've got to go back tomorrow. It would hardly do if we were completely inebriated still. Small would be a complete rotter, we'd probably be made to march 10k as soon as we got through the gates." Chummy explained bracingly.

Trixie seemed to pause, considering this horrible possibility before rallying and waving a disproving finger at them both.  
"Well fine, you might have a point Chummy but if we're to be boring fogies then you two should at least come back to my room with me. Patsy's been practically impossible all day and I need back up from you two. She's always more restrained in company." Delia opened her mouth to decline, thinking that she'd hoped she might get to camp before having to face Patsy but was over ridden when Chummy heaved herself to her feet and agreed that they would on her behalf. Bested, and annoyed by it Delia followed the pair apprehensively.

Trixie and Patsy's room was an exact replica of Delia and Chummy's down to the horrible patterned Duvet cover. Barbara and Shelagh were already there, lounging on one of the beds and also still in their pyjamas. Patsy was standing at the side, mixing four drinks. When they entered the room she turned around to take in the visitors but gave no others sign she was affected by Delia's presence. Delia felt a bit nauseous. 

Patsy, thankfully, seemed unwilling to cause a scene in front of the others choosing to lapse into silent brooding instead and the evening passed by relatively well as they all gossiped between themselves.

The bus journey back to camp on Monday was far less exuberant than their journey leaving it. The squad dawdled back to their dorm and put on their kit silently before turning in early, certain that they would inevitably be woken early by the corporal.

They had been right. Inspection of kit and a hike that nearly caused two to quit followed them the next day. The PT seemed slightly harsher, as though they were being punished for their fun. 

After a week though the daily grind returned to the norm. Patsy, it seemed, was as disinterested in bringing up events in the club as Delia was. The pair of them uneasily agreed to decide to wordlessly pretend it hadn't happened. Delia was not altogether happy about this but was unable to find a way to bring the subject up. Patsy seemed to be avoiding her as much as usual and she was reluctant to force the issue where it would be so clearly unwelcome; not particularly wanting another draining argument.

By the end of the seventh week on basic a change seemed to occur within the squad. It was not that the training had grown easier; if anything the expectations grew day by day, it was just that their bodies had adapted to the harsh treatment, the challenges were met and surpassed. The NCO's were not kinder but it felt as though, having passed the halfway point, an understanding had developed. No one was going to drop out now, no one was too weak for the punishment. A tenuous mutual respect had grown; there were more calls of 'sarge' and 'corp' when answering questions, the shouts at the squad were less demeaning. It made the days float by a little quicker and the squad seemed to lap up the change, they stood taller, prouder. They would finish the course.

The theory elements were giving way too more interesting topics now. They were put through a gruelling real time chemical attack drill. Forced to recite the national anthem as far as they could while standing in a room filled with acid tasting gas to make them understand how it felt. No one had got further than the second line, the gas had lingered on their palates well into dinner that night and made the flavour of the chicken disgusting. 

On week nine they were called into a large hall with several other squads for an external talk from the mental health team about the consequences of war and how they would need to be aware of their own mental state and others during times of crisis. Delia, had done one placement on a psych ward and had disliked it immensely but felt a tremor of interest as the causes and behaviours of the diagnosis and the varying theories on how best to treat PTSD were recited to them by the stony faced OT who heralded from Headley Court.

The talk had then become rather horrible when Corporal had brought out a large bag and unfolded it on the stage in front of them. After asking what it was and receiving confirmation that it was understood they were looking at a body bag he then began a discussion on the suicide rate of soldiers in battle. Delia had felt herself stiffen as the class called out there opinions and experiences. Patsy was sitting very rigidly in her seat, breathing hard and staring woodenly ahead of her.

After a further hour where they had all been asked to consider writing a letter to their family if they did not return from combat which made them all squirm slightly, and return it to the NCO by the end of the eleventh week they were dismissed and filed out orderly from their rows. 

The atmosphere was muted in the cafeteria as the group met at their favourite table. It quickly became apparent that Patsy was not present and Delia craned her neck to search for a hint of red in the crowd at the servery but was met with no answering glimpse of the woman. They ate their meals without talking, all wrapped up in the lecture still. Delia couldn't help but consider how her parents would react if she died in combat and felt awful at leaving them in such a position. Her mam wouldn't get over it, she knew and her Dad would be left alone with his wife in their little house in Pembrokeshire, smoking crafty cigarettes behind the shed. His little side kick finally, irrevocably, out of reach. It was a sobering picture and Delia barely tasted the food she ate as she mentally chewed over her thoughts. 

When they finished eating they all stood slightly awkwardly at the front doors. The next exercise didn't begin for an hour and a few of them had agreed to go to the range and practise their aim. Barbara had offered half-heartedly to go and find Patsy as Trixie looked expectantly to Delia. Delia really wasn't sure how much the blonde knew but felt uncomfortable by the slightly knowing look she was being sent. Sighing, Delia stopped Barbara and agreed to find Patsy. She, at least, had a pretty good idea of why the woman had not turned up for food. The topic of the talk would have hit the red head harder than the rest of them.

In the open air Delia considered where she might have gone and decided to check the dorms first. They would be empty this time of day and Patsy would want somewhere she could be alone. It was sort of her thing. Delia wasn't entirely sure if her presence would be welcomed a great deal but she was the one with the most experience of hurt Patsy. Even if she'd never been particularly successful in her dealings. 

Delia's suspicions were proved correct when she tip toed up the stairs and saw that the door was hanging ajar. Someone was in there. Patsy was laying stretched out on her bed, looking sightlessly towards the ceiling, her bergen was open beside her and suspiciously red eyed. Delia was willing to bet every penny she owned that at the bottom of that bag there would be a battered Adidas shoebox filled with items that might seem inconsequential to a casual onlooker but for Patsy, Delia knew very well, meant the world. Patsy peered over when she heard approaching feet coming towards her but quickly turned back to the ceiling on seeing who was making the noise.

"What do you want?" Cold Patsy was in full swing it seemed. It was predictable and Delia had been expecting it. Exasperated, Delia raised her palms in the universal sign for surrender and rested on one leg slightly, hip pointed out, a little way away from the bed knowing Patsy would want space if she was upset.  
"Don't worry, I'm not here for nefarious purposes if that's what you're thinking. You were missing at lunch that's all, we were worried about you and thought one of us should check to make sure you were alright. It's because we care so please try to be polite and don't shoot the messenger."  
"Suppose you drew the short straw did you?" Patsy replied shortly still looking at the roof, refusing to meet Delia's eye. Delia crossed her arms over her chest, tapping her foot impatiently before formulating her reply wearily, feeling suddenly too old for these games;  
"Patsy, I'm getting too tired to fight with you like this, I'm here because I don't want you to be hurting and I want to help but I can't keep fighting these stupid battles with you every time we get closer than ten feet so either you play nicely and let me in or I'll leave you to it. It's your choice, I know you're upset and I want to help. Just stop being so... so bloody prickly about everything will you." The words were met with a silence so thick it could bend round corners. Delia waited, toe still tapping lightly, belying her cool calm voice, but Patsy didn't seem about to reply, face still turned upwards mulishly.

Blowing out an exasperated breath Delia turned around, arms raised in frustration deciding she could leave in good conscience now, she had never been able to force Patsy to do anything she didn't want to before and she sure as hell wasn't going to now either it seemed.  
"Fine, have it your way then." 

She had managed to get about halfway down the dorm, her passage making the floor creak under heavy boots, before she was surprised to hear a loud and choking call of "Delia, wait!" follow her up the space. The desolate voice resonated somewhere deeply inside of her; some long held instincts to respond and care at such a voice capturing her. She stopped where she was immediately, boot hovering some distance from the ground and lips tightened as she prayed desperately for the ability not to fuck this up. Twisting to look around, unable to stop her face from showing her surprise, she saw that Patsy was sitting up now, hands clutching the edge of the mattress tightly and looking rather sheepish, her cheeks blotchy and eyes pink. Hesitatingly, Delia wandered back to stand beside the bed looking down at Patsy, unsure of what to do now.

Patsy was not a great deal of help, her expression hidden as she stared down at her spotless boots, her fingers busy with their habitual twiddling against mussed blankets. Delia waited where she was, hoping for some kind of cue or sign of what would be welcomed; this was Patsy's issue after all. The moment a little tense as it unfurled before them and grew longer and longer.

"I'm sorry." Was Patsy's rather unexpected answer to the increasing unspoken disquiet, snuffling slightly. Her lips barely moving as she whispered the words and swiped her eyes free of residue remaining tears a little self-consciously. Delia surveyed the woman tiredly before making a decision to bite the bullet and bending down slowly to sit beside Patsy on the bed so they were at equal eye level but leaving a little gap between their bodies still; fully aware Patsy could change gear faster than the Stig when she felt trapped.  
"What for?" Delia queried softly, not wanting to startle Patsy or break the rare moment of developing calm between them.  
"For everything I suppose,' Patsy offered indistinctly showing Delia a rather watery grin before squeezing her eyes shut tightly and sighing deeply 'I'm sorry I've been so... just don't really know what to do around you... it's all so... Well, I mean, I've been a bit of an arse haven't I?" Delia felt herself snort wryly; just a bit Pat's. 

Patsy's grin grew fractionally more confident as they allowed themselves a brief period of shared amused clarity at their behaviour. After a moment Delia bit her lip slightly;  
"I accept your apology' she said rather formally. Patsy never apologised, it was a novelty to be able to accept anything so she figured she may as well enjoy it while she could before clarifying her own feelings on the situation with 'We've both been stupid, it's not just you.' Gently she patted Patsys hand still holding the bed sheets reassuringly. Patsy sniffed and wiped her eyes.  
"Sorry" She said again, embarrassment colouring her tone as she did so.  
"For what this time?" Delia asked without heat.  
"Being like this,' Patsy indicated her slightly blotchy face, 'I just... the talk, it brought back... well, you already know." She finished sadly.

Delia nodded solemnly, yes, she did know. Faith. Always for Pat's it boiled down to Faith. It was a weight she had never managed to learn to swim with. It had been the thing that drowned them in the end. Sighing a little melancholically Delia considered the thought, the girl that had been Faith.

Delia and Faith had only actually met a handful of times before Faith had ended it all underneath that train on a sunny afternoon in July. Hardly more than acquaintances to one another but for their shared love of the woman Delia sat beside now. But Delia had been there to watch how much it destroyed Patsy seeing Faith the way she had been by the end of it all and afterwards too. Faith. Where to even start?

Faith was... had been Patsy's younger sister. Patsy's mother had died when Patsy was only eleven. By all accounts the cancer that slowly ate her mother away from the inside had taken its time and toll on the Mount family throughout Patsy's younger years. Patsy had once described her mother to Delia as a sleepy, kind hearted woman who'd lain on the sofa alot, a diminished figure who had seemed to grow smaller and smaller, weaker and weaker until one day she just hadn't been there anymore. Patsy had understood what was happening by the end although no one had spoken to her directly about it, preferring to ignore her insight. The only concrete thing Patsy could tell Delia was the promise her mother had demanded from Patsy in her final days; a solemn and, in Delia's opinion, inappropriately concrete vow that Patsy would care for Faith always.

When her mother had died Patsy's troubles grew. Richard Mount had loved his wife a great deal and while he may have been a devoted and loving husband and by all accounts was still an exceptional business man he had never been much of a father. Lost in his own grief he had detached from his children, leaving the majority of their care to the small army of hired help he employed. Patsy, had grown in those cold years, to rely only on herself for the support she needed and had become more of a mother figure than a sibling to Faith. Desperate as always to be strong and to keep her word.

Then, at fourteen, at an older age than was usual, Patsy had been shipped out to boarding school very suddenly. There, she had been cut off from her sister and the structures she knew. She'd hated it and in response had learned to grow inwards, always holding others at bay, unsure of how to love or accept love in return. A lonely existence for a lonely little girl. If Patsy had suffered and changed though it had been a small thing to consider in comparison to Faith. 

Faith, having lost two mother figures at such a young age had gone off the rails completely. She'd gone to parties she had no place going to; drinking, truanting, drugs, sex. If anything had been seen as taboo or frowned upon then Faith had done it. By the time Patsy was old enough to return home much of the damage had already been done there, home had become a nightmare. Faith had been a great burning personification of rage and had directed it all at the easiest target she could find. Patsy. She said that she blamed Patsy for leaving and Delia knew the guilt of this had marked Patsy deeper than any scars could have done.

Patsy had tried so hard to help Faith; driving her to and from school, chasing away boys who wanted nothing but fun from the vulnerable teen until one day, out of the blue, Faith had dissappeared. Just went out one day and didn't come home. Patsy had been frantic, sick with worry, the police had been involved and somehow, through it all, her father had blamed Patsy for it, telling her that if she had only controlled Faith better none of it would have happened.

That was how they first met, Patsy mourning a girl who'd dissappeared and filled with a desperate want to help people but still so closed off, Delia a naive but excitable student from Wales. They'd been an unlikely pairing but the attraction had occurred very slowly; like sitting in the water while you ran a bath. The heat had grown around them without either realising it until it had been too late. The love had already burned them indelibly.

They had only been together a year or so when Faith resurfaced. The girl had been 'travelling' she had said when she turned up on the doorstep without warning, bedraggled, dirty and thin on a random Tuesday evening. Patsy had been hurt by the silence but desperate to be close to her sister again. A fact that Delia assumed uncharitably Faith had been rather banking on.

Travelling or not no one ever heard the full extent of what Faith had been doing for so long, Patsy had been almost afraid to hear the story as a whole and Delia had never been brave enough to ask herself. Whatever the story was though Faith was no longer a child, she was a woman and, as it quickly became apparent, a fully blown addict. The first blow had been a call from the police in the middle of the night; Faith had been working as a prostitute in soho. Patsy had paid the bail and done her best to help in court. Faith had laughed at her for it even as she narrowly dodged a custodial sentence.

Then Patsys flat was broken into, Faith owed a lot of people money. The strain had been enormous and despite everything Faith had still managed to always somehow find her way back into Patsys life. Stolen appliances, phones, broken furniture , men knocking on the door at all hours of the night, there had been a time when any sudden noise had made them both freeze in fear at what might be about to occur. It had seemed as though Faith was a lost cause to Delia, Patsy had been at her wits end, the pressure of university and her sister keeping her permanently at war inside.

Then one day, quite abruptly and with no explanation Faith had made a dramatic u turn and had joined a rehab group, had even taken Patsy along a few times for support. She'd got her chip and started enrolling in night classes, it had been shocking and wonderful in equal measure... Delia should have known it had been too good to be true. The day Faith killed herself Delia had been on placement the other side of London in a cardiac unit. By the time she'd come home, unaware of what had happened, Patsy had already taken the call and started drinking.

And she hadn't really stopped again. Losing Faith had destroyed Patsy, a broken promise and a dead sister all she had left to keep herself together. She'd shut down, pushed everyone away, desperate to build her walls high enough that she could never be hurt like that again. And she had managed it, she'd been too good at it, too good at pushing away everyone. A year on from Faiths death even Delia had been forced to give up in the face of Patsy's self destruction. When Patsy's sister died it had seemed that they'd all lost faith; both the person and the virtue.

Delia shook herself, the room suddenly feeling cold and offered a reassuring grimace to Patsy.  
"I think she would have been proud of you for how you are now. You've always been strong Patsy, she knew that." Patsy croaked slightly as she huffed irritably.  
"She'd say I was an idiot,' blue eyes glanced at Delia a little wistfully as the red head sighed deeply, 'she liked you a lot you know. When I told her I was seeing you, once she got over the fact I was gay, she actually laughed at me and said 'I'm going to dance so hard at your wedding.' Patsy laughed brittly, 'she said she thought I'd found The One. I think she'd be pretty pissed at the way I acted honestly, I mean, I ruined us didn't I?" Delia sighed and took her hand away from Patsy's, not sure how to respond.

"We've both made mistakes, I don't think it's good for us to keep wallowing in them though Pat's. It's not that it doesn't matter, of course it does, it's just that we're here now, it's not the same time and we can't change any of it." Delia concentrated on the bluish veins webbing the back of her hands, only slightly braced for an angry retort. Patsy gave a sort of growl and beat a fist against the mattress making the bed frame shudder and Delia jump.  
"I hate this!' Delia cast a curious glance as Patsy went on, 'I hate this awkwardness, it never used to be like this! Other people yes, but not with you. I hate that you're around me and I can't just talk to you properly, I hate arguing with you, it's driving me crazy". 

Delia felt her stomach lurch and let herself sag backwards to lay sideways on the bed, suddenly exhausted to the bones of her boots.  
"I know, I hate it too.' it was the truth after all, 'It's all so bloody painful all the time. I know we both got carried away... the tent... the club were terrible ideas.' She sucked at her teeth hesitantly, thinking deeply, 'maybe we we're trying to fix it but it didn't work. I'm not sure we could be a couple again, there's just so much baggage, but' she hesitated, eyes turning to Patsy who was chewing on her finger nails before carrying on, 'you were my best friend Pat's. Ignoring everything else you were always that to me and I really have missed you, I've missed having you there to talk to about things and make stupid jokes other people wouldn't get. I've never met anyone like you since and that's been... Hard to cope with." 

Patsy nodded and lay beside Delia, their feet still touching the floor as they both gazed at the foam panels of the roof above. It made this conversation a little easier.  
"I haven't been fair. I know I was impossible to live with back then. You didn't run away until I gave you no other choice. I was wrong to keep bringing it up when you got here, it's just... When you left I went into shock I think. I felt like I'd lost everything at once and I've been blaming you for that ever since. I was wrong, I should never have done that to you.' Patsy paused for a moment after this and then, as though every word hurt, she whispered, 'I shouldn't have interfered at the bar, you have every right to sleep with whoever you want." 

Delia felt something lift from her chest, a weight she hadn't been aware she'd been carrying leaving her, allowing her to breathe easier. Blindly she groped for Patsy's hand again and squeezed it gratefully.  
"We used to be good for each other once upon a time." Patsy laughed slightly, her eyes crinkling in the kind of smile Delia hadn't seen since before Faith had died. Her throat seemed blocked by the image. The feeling somewhere between pain and pleasure.  
"We used to be very good for one another.' Patsy agreed lightly, 'I mean we were also terrible but mostly, for a bit, we were pretty damn perfect." 

They let themselves settle a little more comfortably in their spots, allowing themselves to grow accustomed to being close again. After a moment a cloud seemed to cross Patsy's relaxed features and she bit her lip, clearly struck by a thought that had caught hold.  
"I wish we could go to back to the beginning, I would have done it differently." Delia sighed and squeezed Patsy's hand again before answering regretfully,  
"We wouldn't work Pat's. We want different things...you'd get sick of me eventually." Patsy frowned as though she wanted to disagree but instead allowed herself to continue picking at her own thoughts.  
"But if we could. If we could start all over again, no history, I wouldn't make the same mistakes." 

Delia stared at the ceiling, breathing deeply.  
"I just want my friend back Pat's. I hate fighting you, it's too hard. I wish there was a way we could just make it all go away." Patsy hmm'd an agreement as she said truthfully;  
"I miss being someone you could talk to. No offense to Chummy but I sort of want to choke the others sometimes because they get to just be with you and then when it comes to us it's like there's something missing... It never used to be like that."

The conversation tailed off there, both too lost in thought. Delia couldn't quite believe that they had gone so long without falling into one of the three F's. The presence of the woman beside her calling up a strange feeling of calm. This had been her safe place once, this had been where everything could be calmly considered. It was disarming to think that the possibility of having that back was in reach, even if a romantic relationship wasn't. She let her brain swirl in musings and wants. Maybe they could try... just have a go at being friends. It would make everything so simpler if they would, if they both tried maybe it was possible. Delia exhaled noisily, they needed a clean break. A blank canvas to start from. Slowly, an idea grew in her mind.

Delia reached out a hand over her body to hover in mid air, letting herself grin at Patsy,  
"Hello." Patsy looked at the proffered hand blankly, clearly not understanding but raised her own to meet in the odd handshake.  
"Hi?" She answered questioningly. Delia grinned.  
"My names Delia, Delia Busby. I'm a recruit here too, going into the medical core as a nurse, I'm scared about it but I actually like the training. Who are you?" Patsy's eyes flashed in understanding and she let out a little giggle as she shook their joined hands experimentally.  
"Delia? Well Delia that's a nice accent you've got there, don't suppose you hail from a sleepy town in Pembrokeshire do you? I'm Patience Mount but you can call me Patsy. As luck would have it I'm also going into the medical core and bricking it a little aswell. Maybe we can talk about that sometime." Delia felt a smile grow on her face making her dimples flash in the warm feeling bubbling inside her.  
"I think I'd like that. Don't take this wrong Patsy but I think we might be friends. Seems we might have a lot in common." Patsy dropped the hand smiling brightly herself as she let out another laugh.  
"You think? Well Delia I'm glad you think so."

The two of them lay there for a few more minutes, letting the moment set in. Maybe they really could do this. Patsy sat up again, combing her fingers through her messy hair and offered Delia a shy smirk,  
"Do you want to go to the armoury with the others? I've been dying to show Chummy how to load her gun properly, the woman's got stone ears I swear." Delia nodded and got her feet, lighter than she should be. 

Patsy too got to her feet and grabbed her brush from the side of the table, gesturing wordlessly to the bathroom door and Delia nodded; she'd wait. As Patsy walked away Delia felt one final thing needed to be clarified and couldn't wait for another time. Raising her voice she called;  
"Pats!" before her nerve left her. Patsy turned around, face free from its usual frown, open and clear. Delia took a deep breath, steadying herself but certain this needed to be said in light of this startling truce.  
"I didn't sleep with her you know- That girl from the bar. I... I threw up on her stairs and went back to the hotel in a taxi. That's why you found me in the hall. Nothing happened, I wouldn't have done that after what went on with us. I was just drunk and angry. I'm sorry if I upset you." 

Patsy seemed taken aback at the confession and stared at Delia for a few seconds as though considering her next course of action before sighing slightly, eyes softening.  
"That... thank you for telling me. I appreciate it". Delia nodded, relieved at Patsy's reaction and relaxed in her spot. Content to wait for Patsy to be ready.

Outside, above the parade ground, the clouds broke unexpectedly and bathed the dark tarmac in weak beams of sunlight. The storm seemed to be waning for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... relax people. This was harder to write than I thought it would be.
> 
> For those waiting for full blown fluff (babies and making a' luuuurve) it will happen eventually but that's going to have to wait for a bit. I'll direct you to the 'slow burn' tag lol.
> 
> Next chapter the gang pass out. War calls...
> 
> Side note: The 3 F's is a term referring to the three reactions predators have when they meet (Fight, Fuck, Flee). Seemed accurate to me.


	14. The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;

The final three weeks of basic training flitted by, or so it seemed to Delia, in a kind of dream like state. The time passing slowly in the moment but when she looked back on it later on she had the weird sensation that invisible hands had laboured at calendars and dials of clocks, pushing away the days, hours, minutes unnaturally fast towards the end.

Thanks to Patsy and Delia's left field discussion in the dormitory the long days had become immeasurably easier. Patsy's behaviour had improved dramatically, her demeanour pleasant and courteous, no longer the source of so much consternation and anxiety. The change meant that Delia could finally relax a little during designated down time; a fact that was gladly received. Patsy, on her part, really did seem to be happier by the change in atmosphere between them; she spent more time engaged in conversation rather than hovering outside the boundaries of it. The group, though unaware of the full story between the two of them, seemed to sense the lack of tension too and it made them all a little more bold with each other. The laughter was louder, the jokes rallying between person to person without as much hesitation or doubt.

The lectures and exercises were cemented wholly into all of them with end of training final tests, the desired reactions looked for by the NCO's becoming a kind of second nature. At the beginning of the eleventh week the entire squad completed a 20k march with full kit, rifles and weighted Bergen's underneath half an hour and at the finish line were left staring at each other with delighted expressions; thinking back to their first disastrous race and seeing the proof of their efforts rewarded.

Delia, in herself, felt lighter. Although she 'd been doubtful of the hopeful promises made between her and Patsy in the dorms they really had both somehow managed to avoid any further arguments or clashes. Patsy's closeness, though still fairly alien at times, was much easier to accept when she wasn't scowling about the place, letting her long shadow darken the moments. It was hard to admit, but in the confines of her own head Delia could be honest with herself at least, it was almost fun being able to interact with the red head again. Some days it felt like old times, throwing out one word comments that made the other snort in derision or sharing the little things Delia had been certain Patsy would have forgotten, for example, the tea thing. The thing was that Delia always liked weak tea with two sugars just like her nan used to make, Patsy liked hers strong with no sugar; Delia had thought her face would split when, the very next morning after their conversation, Patsy had whipped Delia's tea bag from her mug and plonked it into Patsy's own even as she proffered her sugar sachet with a knowing look in her eye to Delia. It had been an old habit back from training, Delia could hardly believe Patsy remembered it and felt touched by the proof that the red head still remembered some of their old routines; it was like thinking you'd dropped something while you were out and about only to return home at the end of the day and find it exactly where you left it before you left your front door. They'd always been in sync; even when they first met. Patsy's sarcasm and Delia's natural optimism melding together to become a rather homely picture; they evened one another out, smoothed some of the rough edges. It was only slightly surprising to Delia to find that they were still capable of that when she had thought it impossible.

Nowadays, when Chummy made an impossible to make mistake or Barbara sighed a little too sweetly at something twee or Trixie pushed a little too hard Delia had found herself automatically turning to exchange a 'here we go' look with Patsy who would smile back, understanding completely. The rather confusing feelings this kind of interaction between them evoked left Delia vaguely unsettled. They had agreed to be friends and that seemed to be what they were doing. Friendly, tenuous and politely familiar. It was exactly what Delia had wanted... sort of. Except there was still the frustrating flashes of memories that Patsy's increased contact seemed to flush out of Delia. Memories of a far less platonic nature than they were attempting.

Whenever this occurred Delia tried to subtly pull away, conflicted by the feelings the thoughts inspired; wanting what they had very much but wanting something else just as much and despising herself for it. Patsy never made a comment to suggest she had noticed anything when this happened or openly displayed that she was equally affected but Delia doubted it was any easier for her. Several times since their heart to heart she'd had cause to look over at Patsy in the dorms or cafeteria or parade ground when the woman hadn't been expecting it and noticed a darker edge to Patsy's face, the gaze aimed Delia's way a touch too heavy to be an idle glance.

The night before the final day in camp arrived heralding rain showers and early December chills. The whole squad seemed oddly restrained and subdued that evening; unable to completely conceive that the weeks and weeks of gruelling punishment, the daily tortures of drills and lectures, the early morning wake up calls, the screams from angry NCO's had finally come to its inevitable end. Tomorrow the camp would be flooded by families, friends and well wishers invited to see their loved ones Pass Out and receive their cap badges. Tomorrow all of this would become a memory.

The gang were all spread across their beds, strangely docile at the threat of their upcoming final hurdle. Everyone had been given the day to ensure that their uniform was impeccable and had not been found wanting in this indevour. Delia and others had worked hard to ensure that all seams were pressed, boots were polished to within an inch of their life so that faces could be seen and berets had been steamed and shaped to perfection. They were ready in body if not in mind perhaps.

Delia's mother had sent another batch of cakes the day before in a big Marks and Sparks bag and it was currently doing the rounds between the beds it was passed from neighbour to neighbour. Barbara's father and Tom, both priests, were coming tomorrow, Chummy's mother too. Chummy seemed more glum than the others after sharing this particular fact; informing the group hoarsely that she felt more nervous about marching in front of her mother than she would do if she were forced to do it in front of the Queen herself. Trixie had volunteered nonchalantly that her best friend from secondary school was coming and spoke fondly about the diminutive Cynthia who was bizarrely studying to become a nun. Delia found it odd that Trixie could speak so positively about someone who's core beliefs were so very different from her own but was curious to see how the pair worked together. Patsy; of course, had no one to see her Pass Out. The others had accepted this muted answer without any further comment and quickly moved on but the thought stuck to Delia like an adhesive kind of worry that she had yet to shake off. Patsy had always been alone in so many ways, it was unsurprising her father had made excuses if Pat's had even bothered inviting him but it still seemed unfair. Delia had been Patsy's Person before... watching her stand around uncared for while everyone was hugged and kissed by relatives after the ceremony was going to be difficult to say the least.

Delia's parents were of course attending, Delia had been forced to suppress the sarcasm from her voice when her mother had rung the day before to ask how big a hat she would be allowed to wear to such an occasion and had remained on the phone, knuckles pressed to her mouth in silent laughter, as her parents snarked to each other comfortably about the fact that her dad had refused to buy a new suit from Debenhams much to her mums disgust.

Delia felt only a twinge of worry about seeing her family within the camp. It wasn't as though she'd lied when her mother had enquired about who she was training with; she'd mentioned she was with old friends. It's just that she had yet to tell her mother that Patsy was included in that number. Eileen Busby had never been shy of putting herself forward and Delia could only pray she didn't manage to leave her mam on her own with Pats; the two of them had only just found an even keel without her mother bringing up the past and bringing down the fragile bridges they'd managed to erect.

Patsy was currently picking at a rock cake on her bed over a paper sheet, face pursed as she picked out the sultanas from the cake mixture. Delia made a mental note to mention to her mother that raisins would be better in the next batch. Trixie and Chummy were ensconced behind a wall of magazines, cooing over the latest fashion and Barbara was texting Tom, trying to hide the smile that hinted at the potential non PG nature of their conversation. Everyone was enjoying the quiet for once it seemed. Everyone but Delia, who had eventually discarded her book, annoyingly unable to concentrate.

It did not quite seem real that tomorrow would mean they would all need to leave and move away. The others had spoken at length about Birmingham where the nurses would be based for at least six months for their perceptorship. There were a few placements after that to choose from and then, who knew... Delia's gaze involuntary flicked over to Patsy who was now ripping small chunks of cake and rolling it between her fingers, her expression vacant as though her thoughts were just as distracted as Delia's own. 

Chummy wasn't sure where she'd be placed as admin but after a conversation with Peter had a suspicion she might be remaining in Pirbright. Delia felt sad to be separated from her new friend but they'd exchanged numbers and solemnly vowed to meet once every second month for coffee and a catch up. Patsy, having now balled up the compressed cake, sucked the mixture off one finger with a quizzical expression. Delia watched the finger disappear between two plump lips, throat suddenly dry. Patsy seemed to realise she had been caught playing with her food and looked up. Delia forced herself to close her mouth which had hung open slightly without her permission and gave a weak smile. Patsy stared at her across their beds, eyebrows raised, as she slowly pulled her finger away from her closed lips with a faint 'pop' sound. Delia felt her ears turning red and turned to get under her covers to hide it. 

When the other noticed Delia getting ready for bed it seemed an unspoken signal had been given; the others all following suit soon afterwards. In her bed Delia shut her eyes, feigning sleep so as to avoid being bothered until someone clicked off the lights. The room around her rustled with quiet calls of 'Night' and feet passing close by as some last minute stragglers wandered to the toilet, their steps muffled by the thick socks. It seemed very quickly that gentle snores began to wend their way into the air. Delia tried to relax where she lay, mutely embarrassed at her inability to let the past go entirely and not at all tired. 

About an hour later, although it was hard to be certain without checking her phone for the actual time Delia heard someone get up and tip toe close to her. The pitter patter of feet seemed to still at the end of her bed. Delia lay where she was, making her breaths even and light, trying to appear as deeply asleep as everyone else. The footsteps drew closer and Delia caught the unmistakeable scent of bleach on the stale air. The goosebumps that sprang up in reaction to this obvious clue to the identity of her night time visitor were mercifully hidden by the blankets but she forced herself to remain still, not sure if she would be able to maintain a platonic attitude at this moment. 

A hand rubbed her shoulder in slow circles as a wave of mint breath swam across Delia's face, Patsy must be crouched beside her Delia thought; imaging the red head bent and studying Delia's face carefully. Delia wondered what Patsy saw when she looked at Delia, was it as confusing for Patsy as it was for Delia?

"Deel's" The word was spoken so quietly Delia could pretend she hadn't heard it if she wanted to. She did just that, not entirely sure what Patsy could want to say under cover of darkness instead of waiting for the next morning. Delia nearly jumped when the hand released her shoulder and she felt a trembling finger trace the line of her nose and lips; light as a feather and a burning temptation placed before her. The tip remained lightly on the ball of her chin for a moment and then, quick as a flash, soft lips placed one single gentle kiss to her forehead. Delia felt herself shiver and was unable to stop herself from grumbling when the lips retreated. 

"Good luck tomorrow" Patsy called quietly before the sound of rustling signalled her retreat. After a few minutes Delia heard the bathroom light turn on and she knew that Patsy was out of view for the time being. Delia lay in the dark for a long time even after Patsy returned to her bed and began snoring half an hour later heart still racing every time she considered what had just happened. Well that was... Friends wished others good luck didn't they? She wondered... her forehead still burning as though branded.

The next morning miraculously dawned bright and clear as though even the weather was grudgingly acknowledging the importance of the day. Delia and the others couldn't quite manage a full breakfast, no one's appetite particularly strong. They left early to fulfil final chores; stripping beds, packing their bags of any personal affects and the remainders of their uniforms and running the remaining items that were not theirs to keep back to main stores. Once these jobs were completed they dressed in silence, each private desperate to ensure nothing was amiss as buttons were given a final polish and boots were slipped on as lightly as possible to avoid smudging the shine. 

Through the open window car horns could be heard beeping from the direction of the car park and signalled to them all that the onlookers were arriving. After dressing and placing their packed bags to the ends of their beds the squad filed down to the foyer to be taken to their place off side of the parade ground. Someone had re-erected the officers podium there and tarted it up with official looking bunting Delia noted as they whizzed past. 

The rest of the event blurred into warp speed time. The squad were placed into position together and forced to wait, adrenaline racing for their signal. When it came they marched into the parade ground smartly, feet smacking the ground in perfect sync, the noise almost louder than the band accompanying them. The about turn as they slid into their allotted spot was absolutely perfect, even Small would be hard pushed to find fault. They stood in attention, heads held high and arms pulled tightly to their bodies as the other squads repeated their movements until every private on camp was lined up in place in the parade in an enormous square shape, a giant swathe of khaki and shining boots, every face staring dead ahead. It felt impressive and powerful to be within this intimidating group of individuals. 

The ceremony of giving cap badges took several hours and the sun maliciously chose this time to beam on them as they stood still as statues and sweating beneath it. The call up went through alphabetically; Squad P went after N and once the REMY lot were finished with Delia waited, stomach fluttering, to be called up. Major Noakes had been upstaged by someone higher today and Delia was given a firm handshake from a severe man wearing the double pips and Crown of a Colonel she had yet to meet when it was her turn to receive her cap badge. She found herself unable to conceal the beaming smile on her face as she took in the red and white of QUARANC's emblem glinting richly in her palm. Saluting and turning back she waited in silence as the others received their own tokens. 

Once the final recruit had received their badge they were treated to a long winded speech by the Colonel that mercifully lasted for only half an hour before they were finally relieved. In one great synchronised movement every soldier turned to their left at the command, boots thumping the ground so loudly Delia felt sure the tarmac should crack under the sheer force of so many heels pushing into it. They all took the accepted five steps, arms swinging like waves for a few more moments and broke apart, spilling out across the parade ground like the tide crashing across a beach front.

Delia immediately turned as she felt everyone about her relax, eyes searching for one face in particular. Patsy was partially hidden by a tide of uniforms but Delia drank in the image none the less. Patsy's face was exultant, the eyes bright and gloriously alive, her cheeks flushed with one single strand of red peeking out behind her ear. She was magnificent. Delia wanted to go to her, to grab her hand and jump up and down like a school girl. They were soldiers! They'd actually done it!

She never managed this though as the pull of those around her herded her forcefully towards the visitors who were ranged along three tiered rows of seats. Delia spotted her mother immediately; a vision in green hat and all, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief while her father watched on, his own eyes suspiciously shiny. Delia walked to them hurriedly when her mother began waving to catch her attention and allowed them both to hug her warmly. Her mother cupped her face as her dad released her and tilted her jaw so that she could inspect her daughters profile with the air of an inspector at an unrated hotel. She frowned as she took in the sharper planes of Delia's face.

"They didn't feed you enough Cariad! You look like skin and bones, did they not give you my care packages? I don't like to see you looking so small, you remind me of a baby bird, doesn't she to you Rhys". Mr Busby rolled his eyes behind his wife's back to his daughter and Delia laughed as she wiggled free of her mother's hold.  
"Of course they did mam, everyone loved them by the way. Chummy insisted I get your recipe for those cheese straws before we go. It's just that they really run you about on basic that's all, I'm sure I'll put it all back on once I get to Birmingham, not much call for twenty mile hikes in the middle of a busy ward." Delia reassured. Mrs Busby frowned, clearly unconvinced as she continued to peruse her daughters frame, her eyes softening.  
"You look very smart Cariad, we almost didn't recognise you out there, I've not felt so proud since you graduated."  
"Let's see your badge then sweetheart." Mr Busby interjected, stepping nearer. Delia passed over her cap badge and all three Busby's looked down at it.

"The Busby's I assume". Chummy had made her way over to their group, a sullen faced short woman who must be her mother remained standing where she was by the corner, face not concealing her dislike of her surroundings. Delia's parents appraised the new comer with interest.  
"Mam, Dad this is Chummy, she's been an absolute brick while I've been on training. Chummy, I was just telling Mam about how you wanted that recipe". Chummy nodded vigourously, face wonderfully keen as she chatted to Delia's mother about the perils she'd faced when trying to bake while her mother looked on, expression becoming more incredulous as Chummy went on. Delia allowed herself to tune out slightly as she looked around to find Patsy once more. The red head was standing with Trixie and a little woman in a black matronly looking dress who must be Cynthia. Patsy was smiling and shaking her head at something Trixie must have said and as she did so caught Delia's eye. Delia offered a little wave and Patsy beamed back in response and made as though to break off her conversation and walk towards them.

"-Well as I say I'm absolutely hopeless. These lot really have been wonderful to me. Delia's been an absolute pillar of strength the whole time, you must be positively brimming with pride and the others have taught me so much. I seem to forget things quickly you see; only a few weeks ago Patsy was still having to explain how to clear the barrel of the rifle after practise, can you imagine?" Chummy was still chatting on brightly but Delia felt her mother's attention snapped away to her daughter at Chummy's latest statement.  
"Patsy? Patience Mount?" Mrs Busby's voice shuddered like a dark cloud prior to a storm. Before Delia could say anything to defend herself Chummy was already nodding enthusiastically and grinning away completely unaware of the bomb she'd dropped.  
"Oh of course, you must know them all already being Delia's school chums." She answered gaily. Delia wanted to stamp on her foot but was unable to when they were both in trousers.

"Patience Mount Cariad!" Delia's mother was completely focused on her daughter now, her eyes bulging as a faint vein began throbbing in the corner of her forehead, Delia felt her own face redden in response. It was at this moment that Patsy chose to make her appearance, stepping into the groups center face open and bright; Delia mused that she would have quite enjoyed being struck by lightning as she watched Patsy look about in the growing silence and then gulped as her mother's expression told her very clearly that that very situation could be arranged as she took in the red head with half closed, assessing eyes.  
"Squad P, to me!" Delia, instinctively, twisted to look over her shoulder for the source of the call as it rang downwind. Noticing Small standing a little way off and waving imperiously with a thick wedge of envelopes Delia sighed and turned to whisper a hurried apology to her parents as she tugged Chummy and Patsy away.

Marching over to the corporal Delia was overtaken by some of the others. The family and friends stood together watching them all gather back into their squads curiously. When they were all assembled around Small in a rough semi circle the man gave a thin sort of smile at them eyes softening.

"Well done. You all did well today, I'm proud of how far you've come. You should be pleased.' He paused to meet each privates expectant face as though memorising their features before he continued, smacking the floppy envelopes on the open palm of his hand so that the paper crackled. 'Now, I've got your marching orders here. You're each to take one once your names called. In it will be your next placement and role details. So; Aspers... Briggs... Busby"

Delia stepped forward to take her letter, the paper feeling oddly heavy for only one sheet. She noticed the bold colours of the MOD logo in the top right corner above her neatly typed name and number. Slowly, as the others stepped forward around her, she scanned the letter, expecting instructions for where to go in Birmingham next week... Except... Delia re-read the letter twice more, confused by its contents. This had to be wrong surely, a mistake or a final joke on them all. Trixie's voice rang out loudly from somewhere to the right of Delia, clearly having read her letter quicker than Delia.

"Hungary! This says I'm being stationed in Hungary at a field hospital! Hungary.... Corporal we were under the impression we'd be going to Birmingham for perceptorships." The others were staring at Small in confusion and alarm, the stocky man raised his chin defiantly in light of their shared bemusement.  
"All of you are experienced nurses, a perceptorship can be conducted informally at the Debrecen military Base that's currently under the process of construction there. We are at war and we need experienced medical staff who can handle the level of trauma currently present there. You all qualify for these conditions."  
"But Corporal, we've only just passed out! You can't tell me there aren't more experience staff-" Barbara was cut off by the corporal who looked half exasperated and half irritated by their disquiet;  
"Listen to me you horrible little women, you joined up, you signed your name for Queen and country of your own free wills. Well this is what that means, it's not just running around with guns and having fun, its life and death and your superiors feel that you are needed in Hungary so that is where you will go. There are no arguments, you're soldiers. There's nothing else to say on the matter.' He glared at them all so fiercely that no one seemed brave enough to actively continue arguing although some in the back muttered grumpily. A behaviour ignored by the corporal as he glanced at his watch distractedly.

"R&R will be 72 hours ladies; go and see your people. Get laid, get pissed, eat shit for all the army cares but you're all to present yourselves at Luton airport this Monday at 0900 hours for orientation and preparation to depart. Is that clear?" The squad blinked back at him owlishly as though half were still expecting the man to laugh and tell them this was an awful prank. He did not laugh, Delia felt her palms dampen the paper with nervous sweat.  
"I said, are we all fucking clear?" The man shouted, voice raised as though they were still on parade. As one the squad straightened, too many hours of practise seemed to make disobeying that voice impossible.  
"Yes corporal!" They chorused as one. Small nodded and stepped backwards, eyes still tracking the squads features before melting away in a crowd of NCO's a little way off. 

The squad blinked at one another rather stupidly, referring back to their instructions sporadically. Delia noticed Patsy near the edge of the group break away towards the dormitory and felt a powerful urge to chase her down, wanting to say so many things. She fought the feelings away as her gaze fell back to Chummy who was biting her lip and staring at her own orders. Hesitatingly Delia stepped closer to the woman and cleared her throat noisily to signal that she was present.

The sound seemed to startle Chummy and she gave a strange shiver as she looked up, glasses flashing in the weak sunlight.  
"What does your letter say Chummy? Are you going with us or did they give you the clerical post here?" Delia's voice was soft but Chummy still flinched as though she'd shouted.  
"'Fraid so old thing. It seems her majesty does not require my filing systems in blighty, it says I'll be attached to the medical core on secondment as a clerical worker in the admin team with you lot.' Chummy seemed to gulp slightly, 'it appears one will be rather closer to the fray than one thought." Delia wasn't entirely sure what to say, Chummy's pale, frightened face seemed to be reflected in everyone else's as Delia peered about. They were going to the front line. The happiness of the day disappearing as they all realised what it was they'd signed up for.

Delia had reviewed the letter several more times and folded it away safely in an inner pocket of her jacket before returning to her parents. Her mother, strangely, had struck up an odd affinity with Phyllis in her absence and Delia shifted about awkwardly as they continued their bleak assessment of today's youth and the innumerable positives of 'the old days". Her mother kept shooting Delia looks which told her completely that their argument had been parked until they got home; or at least the car.

The conversation had been ended when soldiers had begun heaving their bags over their shoulders and striding away with their family to the car park. Delia's mother had been only slightly disappointed on discovering she only had two and a half days back at home with her daughter and had immediately begun to fret that they'd be trapped on the motorway if they didn't move soon. Delia had managed to excuse herself gracefully at this point to retrieve her own bag from the dorm. She had been given leave to go with only one frustrated sigh of 'hurry up Cariad' from her mam. God knew how she was going to tell Eileen Busby she would be travelling to Hungary on Monday rather than Birmingham. She wondered if the trip home would be long enough to fit all of these revelations in. Sighing she felt a chill as she stepped out of the sunlight into the dorm building.

The dorm felt strange when Delia entered. The beds stripped of all knowledge or marks of their previous inhabitants and empty of the majority of bags. The white walls and polished floor seemed to carry echoes louder in the increased space. Already it seemed the camp was forgetting them.

Chummy had left earlier than the others, after a brief hug with Delia where they'd agreed to meet in the cafe outside the airport before entering orientation on Monday. Chummy had whispered confidingly that she was invited to meet Peters mother this weekend and Delia had watched her go via the officers block in wry amusement. Trixie was returning to London to 'lay a few ghosts to rest' as she put it, Barbara was returning to Liverpool to see her father with Tom 

That left only one member of the gang unaccounted for. Patsy had mentioned casually the previous night that she planned to go to London but had not specified what she was going to do there. Delia had been plagued slightly by images of the red head moping about in a neat flat somewhere. Patsy hadn't been with the others on the way to the car park either so Delia was sure she would still be in the dorm somewhere. They could have a final goodbye alone. Delia tried not to let herself feel too pleased by this fact.

On entering her block of beds she immediately registered Patsy's company. The older woman was sitting on her bare mattress, the call up papers laid flat beside her, travel case propped up by her feet and wearing an inscrutable expression. She nodded casually at Delia as Delia entered the room but did not offer any further greeting. Delia wondered if she should say something about their impending future or ask about Patsy's plans. The moment felt a trite awkward, Delia had the odd feeling she was interrupting something. 

After unnecessarily checking the contents of her bag noisily and then re-fixing the clasps of her case Delia stood at the end of her space, glancing about the room as though taking in the scene one last time. Patsy had watched her labours wordlessly, her expression unreadable as she tracked Delia's movements. It wasn't that she looked like she minded the company as such, Delia could have handled that without visible discomfort. No, the thing that made Delia feel strange during the silent tableau was the way that Patsy gave no impression she felt anything towards Delia's company at all. The ambiguity was unnerving. 

Delia dragged her bag to the doorway, torn at what to do. It would seem rude not to say anything wouldn't it? Hesitantly she turned, the squeak of her cases wheels filling the air. Patsy was still watching her go, face blank.

"So... I'm off then. Wales for a few days.' Patsy inclined her head politely; she already knew this of course. Delia glanced about her, thinking she should add something more to try and fill the silence 'I feel a bit strange leaving you know. I never really knew what to expect when I got here but it's amazing how quickly it felt a bit like home, don't you think?" Patsy nodded again, apparently unaware her hands had begun drawing mindless patterns into her mattress.  
"It's definitely been an adventure" She offered blandly. 

Delia swallowed, feeling she wanted to say more but unable to think of how to say any of it.  
"What are you doing in London, anything interesting?" She probably hadn't managed to make that sound as cool as she'd intended but the question did rouse Patsy somewhat, she blinked as her brain appeared to be turning to the conversation.  
"Oh' she waved a hand airily, 'not a lot really. I might just catch up with a few people, it's been three month since I've seen anyone so I imagine there'll be a few stops to make. I wouldn't mind sleeping in my own bed either,' she offered Delia a somewhat strained grimace, 'these dorms have always reminded me of school if I'm honest." Delia nodded politely, just stop the conversation there she told herself firmly even as her mouth seemed to speak without her consent.  
"Oh, well that's good, I just thought if you were short on idea's you could come with me if you like, there's room in the car and..." Delia tailed off, her cheeks burning and completely thrown by her own spontaneous offer. Where the hell had that come from Busby and how on earth would her mother react if she reappeared towing the ex she had been heartbroken about for years?

Patsy seemed just as blind-sided by the question and frowned at Delia.  
"Come with you to Wales?" Disbelief coloured her tone and Delia felt her spirits sink like a stone in water. Embarrassed at the perceived rejection even if she had immediately wanted it as soon as she spoke, she scuffed the edge of her boot on the floor, eyes downcast.  
"Yeah, silly thought really, forget I mentioned it. Like you said, you've got stuff planned anyway." Patsy was peering at her and Delia ducked her head further to avoid eye contact.  
"Did you think I wouldn't have plans?" Patsy asked softly and Delia felt her neck prickle in frustration at her own presumption.  
"No I thought you... Anyway, you do, so forget it, you know me and goodbyes, I'm never any good at them."  
"I am aware yes' answered Patsy a shade more coldly. 'I don't just wander about alone all the time you know, I have people who I see. I'm not a lonely spinster no matter what Trixie tries to put about." Delia nodded, still a little scolded and unwilling to linger or what 'people I see' might mean.

There was an ugly pause before Patsy took a deep breath and spoke again, evidently trying to lighten the tone,  
"Besides, this isn't goodbye, its three days and we're going to a posting' her eyes flickered back to the sheet beside her and Delia followed it, both of them looking at the page.  
"I don't actually know anything about Hungary." Delia offered, keen to change the subject onto safer grounds. Patsy shrugged  
"Me neither but I suppose this is what Google was invented for." She answered dismissively. Delia did not answer, staring at the red head who seemed to be thinking about other things.

"Your mum doesn't like me does she?" This time it was Delia's turn to look surprised and Patsy's to stare at her boots. Delia's immediate reaction was to lie, to reassure Patsy that her mother was like that with everyone but found herself unable to do so. Instead she settled for;  
"She's just a bit over protective sometimes. I hope she didn't offend you." Patsy looked to her side, eyes vacant but fingers moving faster as though her thoughts were agitated.  
"She knew about us." It wasn't exactly a question but Delia still answered honestly. They deserved honesty at the very least.  
"She knew that I loved you very much, I stayed at my folks place when I first got back... She saw me when I was heartbroken, as a mum she's just doing what she thinks is best. She worries about me that's all."  
"Must be nice... Having a parent who can do that. Chase away the big bad ex when they roll into town." Patsy's voice was a mixture of bitterness and longing and Delia felt her heart thud slightly harder as she considered walking over and just squeezing Patsy until all those little holes and scars from the woman's past were pushed back together again and rubbed away. It wouldn't work she knew but Delia wished, with a passion that she was reluctant to examine closely, that she possessed a way to fix all the pains of a little girl lost. 

"You should go Delia, I'm not good company today." Patsy muttered despondently. Delia knew she was right, she should go, some wounds would never heal but none the less stayed where she was, watching Patsy intently.  
"You're still important to me Patsy. I'm not sure if I should say it, I don't want to muddy waters but so you know; you're not the big bad ex, not to me. You were someone who I loved for a long time. I don't regret any of what we had." Delia shifted uncomfortably at her unplanned declaration, unsure if she'd gone too far but glad she'd said it. Patsy slowly raised her gaze to grant Delia a heavy lidded look.

"Loved?" The words hung in the suddenly heavy air. Loaded and too much. Their eyes met for a few seconds, wordless conversations neither would admit too passing between them. Patsy looked away first, her face shifting back to the floor with a resigned sniff.

Delia allowed herself a few more moments of contemplation before she too looked away. Patsy really was an enigma; contradictions and sharp turns every step of the way. Delia sighed, clutching the handle of her case tighter, but not an enigma to be tackled now it seemed.

With a final curt nod of farewell that Delia was unsure Patsy noticed Delia swivelled round again and began the journey to the car park. The wheels squeaking in protest at every rotation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many apologies for the longer than usual wait for updates this week has been looooooooonnnngggg. Like there's long weeks and then there is this week all I can say is TGIF. Still, hope you enjoy peoples!


	15. Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,

The drive back to Wales was fraught with tension. Delia sat in the back behind the passenger seat and let her mother's diatribe of warnings and admonishments for not telling her the truth about Patsy wash over her.

What was she thinking? Why on earth was she carrying on with THAT woman and who did Patience Mount think she was anyway talking to Delia after everything she'd done. On and on and on it went. Delia offered no arguments or excuses; knowing from long experience that it would just give her mother more steam. By the time they'd passed Bath and the River Severn was winking at them in the horizon Eileen Busby appeared to have run out of steam. Delia's father had said very little during the monologue; occasionally passing warning glances to his wife who was still caught up in her flow she hadn't realised or noticed. Delia waited until they'd passed the bridge before daring to speak as her mother sniffed into her clutched handkerchief, deeming the pause long enough to be an indication that her mother was about done.

"I'm sorry mam, it wasn't that I kept it from you on purpose. I just didn't want you to worry for nothing. It wasn't like I knew she'd be there, Patsy signed up for the same reasons I did; the London. It was just one of those things and I knew you'd tell me to quit if you knew. We aren't 'carrying on'. We barely spoke to each other for weeks, I'm not stupid mam' Delia leaned her head against the frame of the window, feeling the glass press to her cheek as she watched the world swirl past them. She wasn't stupid... foolish and unable to learn from precious mistakes maybe but definitely not stupid. 'Patsy isn't a bad person mam, we didn't work out that's all; it happens."  
"Didn't work cariad? I saw you with my own eyes, that woman made my own child a stranger. I still wake up at night thinking about how you were, not eating, holed up in your bedroom crying. I won't watch that again! That woman is bad news and I don't want you near her".

"Mam, I'm 31 years old' Delia chided gently, 'you can't tell me who I can see or not but you don't need to worry about it. Patsy and me aren't like that anymore, were just friends and not even good friends." The words stung on her throat as they passed. Painfully true.

Delia expected her mother to take issue with her answer but knew she needed to say them nonetheless. To her surprise her father cleared his throat loudly from his place behind the wheel at this point and her mum looked over to him, blinkingly. Slowly, she buttoned her lips, frowning through the front window, face troubled. They all sat in silence for the next half an hour; the ice only thawing when her mother wordlessly passed a small tin of boiled sweets behind her to Delia with the air of Jesus proffering an olive branch. Delia took the proffered tin, plucking up one sweet and then licking the powdered sugar from her finger tips just as she'd done when she was a small girl and they were on their way to a caravan holiday somewhere in England. It felt weird to still be doing it in her thirties; sitting behind her parents wearing her army kit, bulging bergen beside her and loaded case in the trunk. A soldier on break before going to the front line.

Hmmm. Delia wasn't sure when it would be best to break the particularly troubling piece of news regarding Hungary to her parents, not keen to shatter the calm so soon after it had been brokered. She was distracted from her guilty thoughts as the conversation started up again and they all chatted more animatedly about the safer topic of what had been happening at home while she'd been away. 

Delia's cousin Kit was pregnant again apparently and getting big with her fourth child much to her husband's frustration after demanding she go on the pill after the third one. Her second cousin Bryn had started his first Saturday job at a local pizza parlour and had been caught snogging a girl from there at the local bowling alley by Delias great auny Mavis in a fluke cinema trip with her WI group.

By all accounts the girl was a sweetheart but Bryn's mother Shirley wasn't too happy because the girl came from one of the rougher estates and was worried Bryn would be pulled into a life of crime by his association. Delia, who had spent a lot of time with the bespectacled and shy teenager over the years, could hardly see him becoming a Kray and said as much to her dads silent amusement. Her mother had been asked to sing officially in the church choir, a cause of much smugness, and was currently seething because Felicity Coldacott had also been invited to do the same and 'everyone in the church knew this was only because Reverend Hopper fancied her' although Eileen was too pious to say so during the choir meetings of course. 

Delia's father even managed twenty minutes of air time and spoke excitedly about how he'd taught himself to purchase seeds on amazon and described in minute detail, while Delias mother yawned pointedly, the exact crop of rainbow eucalyptus he'd just ordered. Delia had caught his eye through the rear view mirror and her father's blue eyes, so similar to Delias own, had crinkled sweetly as he explained a mite shyly;  
"I thought it was time I had something to represent you in the garden Cariad". Delia returned the smile indulgently, knowing full well that her father already had a crop of daffodils that her mother despised for their irritating foliage that he'd maintained and allowed to flourish because Delia had loved them so much as a child for their brightness. Her mother overtook the conversation once more after this and her penetrating questions about army life and basic training carried them through the final fifty minutes of journey. 

As they neared the grey roofed skyline of Pembrokeshire Delia was surprised to see the twinkling colours of Christmas lights strewn about the place. As they drove through the town the passed underneath awnings coloured with sparkling tinsel and she spied large Christmas trees here and there at junctions.

Cloistered and secluded as she had been in basic training at Pirbright Delia had almost forgotten that the final day was precisely two and a half weeks away from Christmas. She felt a little sad that she would miss the traditional Busby family Christmas party at her parents house this year. Her mam was a wonderful cook and the meal was always spectacular. 

Her parents seemed to tense as they drove into their street and pulled into the neat driveway of their darkened house; exchanging meaningful glances to one another. Delia chose not to comment on their silent conversation, feeling a small lump in her throat as she gazed at the familiar windows and doors of her childhood home, drinking in the comforting feeling of being in a place where the love was unanimous and uncomplicated. 

Her dad got out of the car first, Delia listened to the clunk as the boot was opened and her case heaved out. Her mother turned in her seat to stare at Delia, her face finally fond as she eyed her only child,  
"Well, come on Cariad, let's get inside, its cold tonight." 

Delia nodded gratefully and hoisted her bergen from its resting place on the seat beside her as she edged out of the car, her feet thudding on the gravel as she straightened up and followed her parents to the front door. Her parents both looked shifty as she approached and Delia tried not to tap her feet impatiently as her dad made a meal out of finding the key on his bunch and putting it into the lock. The street seemed quiet and Delia shivered in the cold only wearing her shirt, her jacket discarded to the depths of her bag during the car journey. 

At last Delias dad wiggled the key loudly as he turned it in the lock. The house was beautifully warm as they entered, Delia dropping her bag to the floor beside the door and stretching luxuriously, only looking up when her dad seemed to be having some kind of coughing fit a few steps away. Concerned, Delia walked over to him but he waved her away with a grin and pointed wordlessly to the closed door of the sitting room. Non plussed but happy to be home Delia opened the door quickly, noticing that the room was unusually pitch black as it creaked open. Her mother customarily left a lamp on to deter burglars, immediately she groped along the wall searching for the light switch and touching only smooth wall until her questing fingers found the cool plastic. Delia turned on the light.

A wall of noise and colour assaulted her senses harshly as the room was illuminated. Delia had to fight the immediate urge to step into a defensive stance, hours of attack maneuvers flooding her brain for several moments until her eyes made sense of the scene before her. At least twenty familiar people were jumping to their feet in front of her from behind sofas and furniture, her younger cousins were rushing to cuddle her knees and Delia read a brightly decorated banner that had been strung up by the French doors behind everyone which read in messily printed primary colours 'welcome home Private Busby' with growing wonderment.

Stunned and more than a little shocked Delia twisted to look at her parents who were still in the hall. Rhys had an arm around Eileens waist and they were both smiling at Delia affectionately.  
"Mam, Dad? How-" Delia trailed off, her knees still being squeezed roughly by a particularly exuberant toddler that belonged to her second cousin Cheryl by the look of his curly black mop of hair.

"Everyone wanted to see you sweetheart" grinned her dad sheepishly as Delias mother strolled into the room to wrap her arms about Delias shoulder,  
"We knew they'd send you somewhere soon and you probably wouldn't be home for Christmas so we decided to have it early while you were here." Explained her mother softly. Delia looked harder at the group and took in the large variety of Christmas jumpers.  
"Oh mam, that's so lovely' Delia felt tears threaten to fall behind her eyes as she absorbed the feeling of family and love surrounding her.

The party quickly moved to the dining room. Someone had brought round extra tables and everyone squished into the tight space, talking loudly, while the children crawled beneath the table, tugging at the adults feet and giggling to one another. There had been a slightly awkward moment when the boy who'd cuddled her feet, Toby, asked Delia how many people she'd killed but Delia had been spared answering by his blushing mother who apologised profusely as she tapped the back of the boys head softly with the back of her hand in remonstration.

The whole family seemed to have descended on the house for the occasion. Much to everyone's delight Delias father handed round crackers and the air soon filled with loud bangs as neighbours pulled at glossy paper together. Somehow her mother had managed to prepare the majority of the dinner prior to leaving and they all wooped appreciatively as she carried out large steaming trays of roast potatoes, endless veg, pigs in blankets and an enormous golden turkey into the room so that the table seemed to groan from the weight of it all. It was just as Delias mother dissappeared for the gravy that Delias aunt Blod asked Delia about her next posting. Everyone tuned in interestedly as Delia paused in helping herself to spiced cabbage.

"Our Delias off to Birmingham on Monday" confided her father confidently from the other end of the table as he picked up one of his nieces and put her on his knee, trying to absentmindedly untangle a peice of ribbon that had twisted in a lock of the little girls hair while she stuck out her tongue to a slightly older brother still huddled by the table leg. The table murmured to one another with interest at the information and there were a few poor attempts at a Brummy accent from some of the crowd. 

Delia let out the breath she'd been holding, wishing this conversation could have waited a little while longer as she tried to keep her hands busy and began ladelling peas onto her plate slowly.  
"I'm actually not going to Birmingham now dad, they told us before we left, there's been a change of plan." The others looked at Delia expectantly as Rhys finally succeeded in his work and removed the scrap of ribbon from the girls hair.  
"Oh Cariad you should have said. Where are you going now then, is it any closer to home?" Her father asked mildly, looking at his daughter with a bemused expression. Delia looked at her plate and let the ladle return to the pot of steaming peas before she spoke.  
"No dad. They... well, er, they're sending me abroad they said." She answered evasively. The others muttered looking at one another in confusion as Mrs Busby returned to the room carrying a large jug of thick bubbling gravy in both hands. 

"Abroad,' her father, for once, did not seem prepared to let the topic lie and was watching his daughter sharply, eyes trained on Delias face, 'Where abroad Delia?" Delia felt her face grow hot under so many eyes and directed her answer to her fork in a mumble.  
"Hungary they said, somewhere close to the border." 

There was a long, difficult pause before a loud crash made everyone jump and turn to stare at Mrs Busby who had seemingly dropped the jug of boiling gravy to the floor where it began to spill out onto the floorboards. Unusual for her mother as it was to create mess Eileen did not appear to notice as she stared down at Delia in obvious horror.  
"Hungary' she said in a strained and hollow voice, 'as in the place where the armies are fighting, the place they're calling 'the dead zone' on the news every night Delia Busby? They're sending you there?" 

The others were gawping now, some faces pointed towards Delia, some to Eileen and some flitting between the two. Rhys was looking at Delia open mouthed and faintly sick as Delia nodded slowly still watching the shine on the tips of her fork prongs reflected from the light fixture. Delias mother gave a sort of extended choke before growling across the room forcefully;  
"No Cariad, you can't go. I forbid it." 

Delia felt her heart sink as she looked up to meet her mothers tortured face glumly. She had been scared this might be the reaction her news created but had no way of changing the facts. She was a soldier now, the choice was no longer hers to make where she went. The khaki uniform she was wearing all at once made her feel very large and foreign in the room of festive clad onlookers.

"Don't be like that mam, I have to go where I'm sent. I won't be on the front line or anything, I'll be in a military hospital at the camp. I won't be fighting, I'll be looking after people who need medical care. It's an important job and I know I can do it.' Mr Busby placed his head in his hands and Eileen gave a worrying sort of growl, head swivelling slightly to keep Delia, who had shifted to move her hands, firmly in her full view. 'it's not like those war films on the tele nowadays mam, the technology and weapons are so much more advanced I'll be just as safe there as I would be if I had been in Birmingham."

Mrs Busbys eyes seemed to bulge and she actually swayed quite alarmingly as she glared at her daughter.  
"Safe' she whispered hoarsely, 'safe? Delia Busby you cannot tell me that. I'm no fool, do you honestly expect us to accept you going to a war zone lightly? You'll be murderered in your bed the first night you're there. You are not setting foot in that airport Cariad, you'll desert before you go you have my word on that my girl!"  
Delias father twitched and breathed slowly through his nose as he stood up and reached to hold his wifes hand; a comfort and warnign at the same time.  
"Eileen, you can't ask her not to do her duty-"  
"And what about her duty to this family Rhys. After everything we've done for her she thinks she can throw her life away without a thought for-"  
"Mam! Stop it, I don't have a choice. I'll be fine; please don't be like this.. I've only got two days at home before I go. Don't make it difficult." Delia shouted, not enjoying being spoken about as though she wasn't in the room.

"Difficult" Her mother tailed away, breathing ragged as she glared over at Delia for a moment. The whole room appeared to have stopped breathing as the two Busby women stared one another down. Delia broke away first, looking at the table and licking dry lips. From somewhere to her right she heard her Aunt offer to help clean up the spillage in a false airy voice and at the cue the others began up an offensively loud conversation to cover the awkwardness. Delia looked up to see her mother being led away by her aunt Blod while her father hitched a strained smile onto his face as he picked up a niece and propped the little girl onto his hip.

The next few hours seemed incredibly long. Delia felt the others whispering but no one seemed willing to breach the subject of her deployment with her directly. Instead she was treated to variations of compliments about her thinner frame and pointed jokes about her uniform which she had yet to find an opportunity to remove. They all sat about playing charades and drinking copious amounts of sweet wine and sherry while her parents and aunty huddled together in the kitchen, whispering quietly and shooting Delia dark and furtive glances from time to time. 

By the time the clock on the wall read 11pm Delia felt utterly spent. The day had been extraordinarily long; it seemed shocking that she'd woken up at 5am that morning surrounded by fellow soldiers; people who understood to now be surrounded by well wishers and family who seemed strange and different to her. She felt relieved when people began to make their way to the front door; parents scooping up their children wherever they had crashed out during the games and stood in the hallway accepting kisses and hugs as she bid goodnight to the main bulk of the group.

Gratefully she accepted her fathers suggestion that she go to bed after a half hearted offer to help clean up and gave him a swift peck on his smooth cheek, noticing how his eyes seemed pink around the lids and loving him for not trying to overtly guilt her even if her news seemed to be costing him just as much as her mother. The stairs creaked in a familiar way as she trudged up them, her legs feeling bulky and heavy as she dragged them down the hallway past her parents room to the bedroom of her childhood. A salt dough sign was still tacked to the middle panel of the door in glitter paint colours and proclaimed 'Delias place' to all and sundry. Delia had been five when she made it; the D looked more like an O she noticed.

Delias mother was curled up on her bed as Delia entered the room, Delias pillow cradled across her stomach like a sleeping baby. Delia squeezed her mouth shut tightly as she noticed her mum and silently padded over to sit beside her. Wordlessly the pillow was discarded in lew of Eileens real child and Delia was clasped tightly to her mams chest. A hand patted her back mindlessly as they both sat together for a long time; their breathing the only sound in the little room.

"Your cot used to be over there' Eileen said suddenly; indicating to a corner the other end of the room beside the door thickly. 'We put you next to an inside wall, didn't want you to get a chill... You were such a good baby; slept through from practically the first night. Me and your da' had to wake you up for feeds and we were worried you'd be up afterwards but you'd just gurgle and fall back down to sleep... You were so perfect. I was so happy and terrified something would happen. That's how I knew I was a mam, because I loved you so much and I was worried from your first breath.' Eileen sighed into Delias hair, 'I used to camp out next to you on a blow up mattress for the first six months and listen to you breathing just in case... in case anything happened, I couldn't bare the thought of leaving you on your own. I'm your mam see, my jobs to keep you safe Cariad." Delia felt the hand on her back leave its spot between her shoulder blades to clumsily slip away to her mams face and wipe away silent tears.  
"You're my little girl Delia, I've loved you for every step you've ever taken, I've cleaned scraped knees and watched you hurting and everything in between....don't go Cariad. Don't go where I can't keep you safe." 

Delia felt wretched, pulling away stiffly to sit straight and rub her face roughly, hating that she was hurting her parents like this.  
"I can't say that mam. The army-"  
"You're 31 years old Delia. That's no age at all! No mother should have to bury their child. Is that what you want for your dad and me, picking up your body from some airport runway? Is it?"  
"No mam! That's not going to happen alright, I'm going to be fine. I'm a nurse, I have to do this."  
"There are other nurses!" Delia felt hands grip her forehead as she was pulled to stare into her mothers desolate pleading face.  
"Stay here Delia, please, stay where you're safe. For me and your dads sake... don't break our hearts." 

Delia felt hemmed in and terrible as her own tears sprang up and drifted down her cheeks inconsequentially. She wasn't prepared for this. She hated doing it.  
"I have to go mam." She repeated softly, running a thumb over her mums hand at her face, feeling the veins and hard patches of her mothers skin, feeling home beneath her finger tips.

Abruptly the hands were dropped, her mothers face darkening as she bit her lip and more tears began to fall. Her mum stood up very fast making Delia tilt where she sat, suddenly forced to look up at her parent.  
"Fine!' Eileen Busby flicked at the corners of her eye with the air of a field General receiving the news that her army had come second, 'Fine! Go then! Go and don't bother thinking about us while you do it! Who are we to you after all, just your family!"

Delia thought her heart was breaking as she tried to stumble to her feet, hand outstretched to recapture her mother and pull her close. But too late... Her mother had gone, slamming the door as she did so leaving Delia standing rather foolishly in the center of her childhood bedroom still dressed in her army uniform.

Tearfully Delia remained where she was for a moment, miserable and guilty. Shrugging off her uniform angrily she dropped into bed naked, too tired to try and find her mother. There was nothing she could say anyway.

Her dreams that night were full of shadows, all calling for her to stay. Delia tried to pull herself from the spot she was in to reach them all but found her feet were rooted to the spot. She groaned desperately, trying to shout to the voices; her parents and Patsy calling for her to stay, to try a little harder but it was useless and frustrating. The voices remained far away and Delia was trapped in her place, lost from sight and broken.

She jolted awake early the next morning, her body shaking and covered in cold sweat. Her throat burned as though she had been screaming. Muzzily Delia sat up, her attention turned to her bergen which someone, probably her dad, must have placed in her room while she slept. She wiped away sleepy dust as she considered how she would need to iron the clean clothes within it today. 

Slouching back to lie in her bed she glanced about her room. It was unchanged from her teenage years, her mother had refused to remove the things there. The walls were still painted a light yellow, faded and curling posters remained tacked to the walls from magazines and pictures. Her gaze fell on a rather well appreciated picture of Dana from the x files that was stuck to the edge of a mirror by her child sized dresser next to a large screen shot of Lucy Lawless in her xena outfit. Delia smirked, thinking about a rather lewd fantasy from her teenage years she harboured about that leather mini skirt. A wide squat bookcase crouched against a wall and she eyed the colourful but worn spines of them lazily remembering how often she had fallen asleep reading them as a child and not waking when one of her parents slid it out beneath her face and left it on the bedside table.

Memories.

Delia shook herself, not wanting to fall back into the maudlin mood of last night and pulled on her pyjamas before grabbing the bergen as she left the room hurriedly; wanting to escape the feeling of the walls closing around her. Downstairs was deserted, the party of the previous evening tidied away. Delia walked to the pantry and retrieved her mothers iron before flipping open the board and distracting herself for the next half an hour in repetitive chores. Collar, sleeves, one half of the body and then the next. Methodical and important.

It was half eight by the time she'd finished and as she was putting away the board her dad strolled into the kitchen. They both grinned a little embarrassed while the light shone through the windows, pale and weak. Her dad made coffee while Delia busied herself making them both toast and marmalade. They sat on the sofa together, feet propped up on a big pouf and munched the food, both of them licking their fingers to track any crumbs from the plate and watched movies until midday. Her dad put on a battered copy of an officer and a gentleman about halfway through indulgently, knowing how much Delia had loved it as a teenager. Delia didn't have the heart to tell him she'd already watched it again fairly recently and she sat with her head on his shoulder breathing in the lavender scent of her parents fabric softener as the light grew around them.

Around mid day her mother stalked into the living room, face blotchy and hair mussed, snapping at them for leaving their plates on the coffee table from breakfast and grumbling about how she needed to cook lunch and how it would be late because no one had bothered to wake her. Delia exchanged gloomy looks with her dad as the sounds of pots and pans being banged onto the worktops travelled from the kitchen. Delia didn't know if she'd be able to cope with another guilt trip from her mum today.  
Fortunately for her the Gods seemed to be on her side for once and she was called away to the front door before she was forced to get up and speak to Eileen. A crowd of nurses from her old ward were huddled on the doorstep wearing amused expressions at seeing her in her pajamas.

"The army seems to have improved yourself discipline Busby!" Called a blonde woman called Chenice.  
"I knew you were a westlife fan, the jigs up lady" Called a woman Delia knew only as Cuttler. Delia glanced down at her clothing which displayed the aforementioned band awkwardly. A panic buy at a thrift shop in London during a placement where she'd been thrown up on about six times in a twelve hour period. Patsy had bought it for her, she'd got off a little earlier and Delia had found the woman holding it up in the staff room wearing an amused grin when she'd stumbled in cursing and stinking after being relieved. She'd kept it because it reminded her of her odd knight in shining armour, somehow it had ended up in her bag when she'd left London. Silly thing to keep really but Delia had never managed to throw it...

Delia left the group outside for ten minutes as she hurriedly changed into jeans, shirt and light weight jacket. She shouted out a brief explanation to her parents as she passed the door to the living room and managed to shut the door before her mother could call her back although she thought she heard the sound of a pot being flung as the catch clicked shut.

Delia wasn't particularly close to any of her visitors but the afternoon passed by pleasantly enough. She listened attentively to office gossip from the hospital. Apparently Sister Julienne had caused waves after visits from an odd assortment of retired nurses to mentor young nurses. A great bear of a women who demanded to be called Sister Evangelina at all times had terrorised the cardio department while a bizarre old woman who only asked to be called Antonia had caused complete chaos in the paediatric department although by all accounts the kids loved her.

Without consciously deciding to do it the group ended up rammed around a rickety table in a pub around dinner time. As the star of honour Delia was fielded with offers for drinks and was soon supping a golden cider from a sweating glass while a fire crackled merrily behind its protective grate and filled the room with a warm and comforting background noise. There seemed to be a variety of Christmas work parties at play near the bar and after half an hour the group split up; calling out to a gaggle of hospital staff who'd just entered.

Delia nodded at the few faces she recognised from her place at the table, unwilling to leave her pint and growing slightly weary of constant conversation; thinking fondly of the nights she'd lay in companiable silence with the squad, swapping shy grins with Patsy during the last week. She ached for that feeling as she slouched in her chair choked by the sudden pang of loneliness in a crowd.

A trick of the light made her chest flicker as she spied a strand of red in the press of bodies. Patsy. She couldn't stop herself, it was her first thought. A stray hope as she squinted at the colour; maybe Patsy had changed her mind on Delias offer. God, what the hell would she do if that was true? She balked at an image of trying to sneak Patsy to her bedroom like a naughty teenager.

She felt a wave of disappointment as the source of her interest detached from a group of men and walked towards her. The face of Lacey stood out in the muted light; she was watching Delia steadily as she sidestepped pubs patrons and managed to slide into a chair opposite. They eyed each other steadily, Delia feeling faintly exhausted with arguments and unsure if she could handle another disagreement this weekend.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Lacey asked unexpectedly, head tilting towards the door. Delia looked at the pint glass clutched in her closed fist for a moment tiredly before replying, making sure to keep her voice level and honest.  
"Not really Lace, I've got an early start tomorrow". Lacey flushed in front of her at the outright rejection and sank back into her chair.  
"Did you find someone new on your little break away to mess with then?" Arms folded, scowl. Delia seemed to just draw this reaction from people these days.  
"Not really. Not in that sense. I just really am tired." Delia couldn't be bothered to keep the frustration from her voice now; she was growing sick of explaining herself to people even if she probably needed to be kinder to the woman in front of her.  
"Your cousin Stacey was in the co-op yesterday. She said your mum was fuming about some ex you've been shacking up with in England". The accusation seemed to burst out from Lacey, as though she'd been stewing about it for quite a while. Delia paled. Oh for fucks sake, Delia would have smacked the table if she had the energy. How many bloody people needed to be involved in her business. Damn her family for their collective big mouths. Delia sighed and grimaced up at the sad looking ex realising she had been a bit of an arse to quote a wise woman who'd told her much the same thing weeks before. "She's an ex but we haven't been 'shacking up'. She was put in the same squad. Fickle finger of fate and everything, nothing to do with my own preferences. Honestly Lacey, I didn't leave us and just jump the next girl I met." Delia tried to fight the blush on her throat that sprang up whenever she lied. She had sort of jumped Patsy several times but she doubted telling Lacey that would have helped the situation. Lacey seemed to shuffle about in her seat, her jaw shifting as though she were chewing the words.  
"The ex... She was the one you wouldn't talk about. The one that messed you up isn't it?"

Delia swallowed, throat suddenly thick.  
"She... yeah she was important to me." The two of them sat across from one another, avoiding eye contact as Delia downed the remainders of her drink, not really wanting it anymore but doing it for the look of the thing.  
"Is it true you're going to Hungary as well, only your cousin was telling the woman at the counter." Delia nodded slowly, not knowing what else to say.  
"Thats... well thats a bit shit Deels.' Lacey muttered and Delia laughed, feeling her face break out into a mirthless smile. A little bit yeah Lace. 'I was thinking... maybe I could write to you or something while you're out there. My step brother was in Afghan and he said that letters from home kept him going. I think I'd like to do that for you". Delia, surprised and touched by the offer nodded without really considering what on earth they'd talk about in letter correspondences. Lacey smiled back at the agreement and inclined her still full drink to Delia.

"Your health then miss Busby." Rather uselessly, they clinked glasses and Delia watched as Lacey stood up and walked away leaving Delia seated and staring. Soon after that Delia made her excuses and trudged home alone. The darkness of the night swallowing her up as she wandered down back lanes to her parents house. The lights were mercifully off as she approached and she was able to enter the house without comment or interruption. Delia slumped into her childhood single bed, hearing the familiar gloink and boing of tired bed springs as she shuffled about to lie above the covers once in her bedroom. Without thought she dropped her clothes to the floor and shrugged on the holey tee she'd worn during the morning. It didn't smell of bleach anymore but she felt warmed by the feel of it on her skin. Plugging her phone in to charge she stared at the ceiling despondently as the bright screen made a square of light shine into the smooth surface. 

She checked the messages on her phone slowly and read a message from Chummy full of happy news regarding her meeting with Peters parents. By the looks of it they liked her although Chummy had thought the game had been over in the first five minutes when she'd stepped on Peters mothers handbag as she entered the room and somehow ripped off the handle with her feet. It had gone uphill after that though and Chummy ended her missive with a question about meeting up the next day before orientation.

Delia quickly transcribed her reply and placed the phone back on her bedside table as the little noise which indicated the message had been received chirped quietly. Delia sighed and placed her hands behind her head feeling oddly detached and depressed. She couldn't actually stop herself from wanting to leave tomorrow, to return to the others who would be nervous about going just as she was but would never the less be waiting at the airport just like her to go to Hungary and see what was waiting for them there. 

The guilt of being around her parents nagged at her and Delia felt upset and frustrated by their behaviour. She had joined up of her own free will to help people, why couldn't they just be proud instead of dissapointed and hurt? 

Delia wanted to talk to someone desperately. She glanced at her phone again and sighed. Chummy, of course, was a likely candidate and would no doubt be full of good, optimistic advice about the situation but Delia was oddly reluctant to call. Chummy was not the person she wanted to speak to after a long and frustrating weekend. Delia needed someone who could understand dark and twisty and who, if Delia felt like being grumpy and irritable, would understand her enough to let her be and maybe throw in a few glib comments to make her smile again. In short Delia wanted the one person she couldn't call. Delia wanted Patsy.

Delia sighed again in mute frustration. Stupid. Delia couldn't ring Patsy, for one thing they hadn't exchanged numbers and she was reluctant to admit to Patsy that she still had her number after so long and secondly; Patsy probably wouldn't answer anyway. She'd be 'busy' with whatever it was she was doing with her 'people she saw'; whatever the hell that meant. Delia had a sudden vision of Patsy wrapped around some faceless woman in her tidy bed in her tidy flat in far away London and almost retched. 

Stupid Patsy for not giving Delia her number before they left. Stupid Delia for being too stubborn to ask. Stupid stupid stupid childish pointless situation. Angry and tired Delia slid beneath the sheets trying not to ruminate too hard about her suspicions of what Patsy was doing right now... and who she might be doing it with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bleedin eck. 
> 
> I seriously love the Busby family, this chapter was just so much fun to write.
> 
> Next stop. Hungary!
> 
> SB


	16. And each slow dusk a drawing down of blinds.

The long train journey and subsequent taxi to Luton airport were surprisingly restful. Delia felt revived by the break from monotonous training if not exactly comforted by her parents attitudes. Her last night with them had been the expected flurry of tears and final bargaining pleas from her mother not to return to her post. The only relief came when her father had insisted flatly, stony faced, that they all go to bed despite the early hour after a final round of tea while her mother wept into her hands beside them.

Her dad had offered to drive Delia to Luton himself as they had waited on the landing for her mother to brush her teeth but she'd politely refused; not wanting to create any more opportunities to be guilted or to put her father to any further trouble besides her mothers anger once Delia was out of sight. As a compromise her parents had seen her onto the train at four in the morning on Monday and Delia had waved at them from her blessedly empty compartment window until their shapes faded into tiny shadowy dots and then dissappeared entirely in the distance.

Chummy was waiting for Delia several hours later in the coffee shop outside of the airport looking disgustingly bright eyed and chirpy. They both hugged each other warmly; their seperation though short in reality had felt exceptionally long after three months together 24/7. Delia sat listening intently over an over priced latte as Chummy dived into a hot chocolate dressed with lashings of whipped cream and regaled Delia about her meeting with Peters parents in full, painstaking detail.

They'd gone to his folks after a luxurious lunch together with champagne to celebrate Chummys passing out on Saturday. Peter had even made a shy toast apparently about his pride in Chummys development. His parents house was rather modest, Chummy proclaimed proudly, against the usual sort you might expect from a majors family; not too flashy but still oozing class. Peters mother had chatted amiably about knitting patterns with Chummy while the men wandered in and out of view, smoking cigars as his father warmed up the agar for their light supper. Delia blinked in the reflection of Chummys beaming pleasure; it was plain to see that she was near ecstatic with the events.

By the time the drinks had been half drunk Chummy seemed to have picked up on her peers slightly mournful presentation and demanded a full acount of Delias weekend in turn. Delia offered a shortened version, not wanting to dampen her friends cheer too much. To her amusement her previous thoughts on how Chummy would react were spot on. Chummy tutted at Delias mothers behaviour but seemed sympathetic to her fears and urged Delia to try and write often once they were at their posting to reassure her mum she was OK. Delia agreed nonchalantly, knowing full well her mam would kill Delia if she didn't do this anyway. 

Draining their cups together they both hesitated slightly as they ended the conversation, pangs of final moment nerves setting in before Chummy asked hesitantly if Delia was ready. Gulping and trying not to look nauseous Delia nodded and they both deposited their drinks and tray on the counter and slung bulging bergens onto their backs, spines straightened tensely.

At the big glass fronted entrance they were immediately directed down a long corridor by a soldier in a yellow hi-vis vest and they silently followed the official looking signs down weaving passageways. The military had seemingly taken over several runways for the large scale deployment and when Delia and Chummy entered a high ceilinged room they saw many khaki clad people milling around and calling out to friends. Delia spotted Trixie near the far wall, lounging beside her bergen and painting her nails in a manner that suggested she was preparing for a longstanding dinner date rather than all out war. Chummy and Delia pushed their way through the throng of people to deposit their bags beside the blonde. 

Trixie looked up at them as they slumped beside her looking cool and sophisticated.

"Hello ladies, good weekend?" She asked brightly as she added a final layer of deep red to her left pinky. Delia hung back a bit from the conversation after nodding as Chummy repeated her weekend escapades to a frowning Trixie who immediately struck up a very serious discussion about Peters body language at apparently significant moments. Delia allowed herself to tune out somewhat as the two women giggled.

Barbara had just arrived looking pink faced and nervous and Delia waved over at her encouragingly.

"Hey, good weekend?" Delia called over the head of a pair of men that seemed to be squabbling over something in their hands.

"Hello Delia!' Barbara puffed as she too slung her bag besides everyone elses, 'The weekend was lovely, there were one or two surprises in fact." Coyly, Barbara lifted her left hand vertically so that the front faced Delia. Delia frowned slightly at the odd movement before she spotted the reason; a simple gold ring with a diamond set into the middle of the band glittered faintly out from Barbaras fourth finger. 

Delia felt her face split into a wide grin as she squealed and stumbled to standing so she could wrap her arms around the small woman.

"Barbara! How wonderful, how on earth did he do it? You must be so pleased!" The other two had looked around at Delia's shout and were getting to their feet hastily to crowd around Barbara who was blushing under all the attention.

"It was a complete surprise.' She admitted sheepishly, 'Tom said he hadn't planned to do it straight away but when I said we were being deployed he told me he knew it was necessary now.' she twiddled her ring finger experimentally towards them all as though to examine the sparkle in the florescent spotlights high above their heads. 'He asked my dads permission and everything, it was so sweet. We went to my mothers grave yesterday morning so I could say goodbye for now to her and he got down on one knee by the gates underneath my favourite tree in the church yard. It was perfect". Barbara looked absolutely ecstatic and they all passed the next half an hour discussing her wedding plans, her weekend as a whole and laughing about how many bridesmaids she would have with them all and her three sisters.

In the next lull Trixie, who had returned to her nails as they nattered, gave a rather soulful sigh as she slid an emery board back into its plastic sheath.

"I don't know, I'm quite green with jealousy at you all you know. Barbaras going to be a wife, Chummys will be next you mark my words and here I am, doomed to be an old maid forever." The group smirked, taking in Trixie as she began to apply a second layer of mascara with the help of a small compact mirror, shaking their heads in shared amusement.

"I don't think I've ever met someone less like an old maid Trixie. Anyway, you're not the only one who's single. Patsy and Delia haven't got significant others either." Consoled Barbara lightly, Delia winced at the statement but continued to smile blithely, trying not to show any reaction. 

Lipstick applied, the compact closed with a snap as Trixie looked over to Barbara with an expression that could only be described as 'old'. 

"Honestly Barbara, sometimes I do wonder why you have eyes. Believe me, I'm the only one without a significant other in this little coterie." Delia froze as her cheeks grew warm, Trixie was looking over to her now with a cocked eyebrow and a knowing look. Shit. The others were looking over to her too now, puzzled. 

"What's this Deels? Have you been holding out on us? Does this mean you have a beau, what's his name?" Chummy asked quickly in a slightly accusing voice. Delias blush intensified.

"Ooh who is he Delia? Was it one of those lads from the exercise, Patsy said one of them asked you out?" Barbara asked excitedly.

"You never said someone asked you out?" Chummy said, frowning now, clearly hurt.

"He asked me for a drink and I said no, there wasn't anything to tell after that Chummy I promise. As for who, there isn't any 'who' to talk about. I'm just as single as Trixie and Patsy." Delia snuck a warning look towards the blonde who grinned slightly as she watched Delia squirm.

"How was Patsy this weekend? She's late today, did she say anything to you Delia?" Trixie asked sweetly from behind the others backs. Delia felt winded at the subtle barbs from someone she had never completely been certain knew anything of her and Patsys business. Low blow Trixie.

"Why would I know where Patsy is?' Delia shot back quickly. Too quickly. Shit. She needed not to seem like the question was loaded or the other two would cotton on. Keep it cool Busby. Trixie was still smirking out of sight of the other two who were watching Delia slightly confused.

"You mean you didn't ring her?" Trixie asked in a sugar sweet voice.

"No, I don't have her number anymore. I lost everyones details when I went back to Wales years ago." Delia answered equally sweetly. I will get you back for this nurse Franklin, I will find a way, Delia fumed in her head silently.

"Oh' Trixies surprise appeared fake even to the others apparently because they finally turned to look at her. Trixie paused like a gambler before playing their ace card as she gently blew on her already dry nails nonchalantly. 'Thats so strange, Patsy told me you called her the night the London was bombed. You must have lost it since then..."

Delia felt her face finally give up on the blush as the blood drained from it. She felt a guilty heat grow at the back of her neck. So Patsy really did know it was Delia ringing that night. Funny, she never said.

"I..." 

Her need to answer was thankfully curtailed as a fifth bergen was slammed down noisily. They all jumped as Patsy stretched before them. She looked tired but tidy. Delia's heart gave an annoying sort of skip as she took her in.

"Hello ladies. Sorry to break up the chat, but the orderly told me to get ready. We're due to go through there' she pointed to a set of double doors further along the wall they were sat by, 'for orientation and they're giving us new kit apprently. God knows why, I don't think I've got room in my bergen for it." 

They all blinked at her stupidly for a moment before grabbing their bags swiftly and wandering to the doors indicated in a suddenly timid huddle. The conversation of moments before seemed to evaporate away, all minds turning to what lay ahead.

The doors opened as they approached and they all managed to be the first few in the room. It looked a bit like a ball room with pretty fabric bolted along the walls but the contents were less than grand. Someone had stuck paper to the walls with core names and badges. Chummy glumly walked away to her different station casting a vaguely longing look towards the others as she moved away. The nurses all wandered over to stand below their symbol where a strict looking female who appeared to be somewhere in her forties, uncharacteristically older than the norm, with a haughty jawline and thin pursed lips.

"Stand in a line in height order." She barked at them sharply without preamble as they approached. The squad sagged as the realisation they had another difficult NCO to contend with hit them like a slap in the face. Wordlessly they all slid into their familiar spots and waited for the others to arrive. After twenty minutes where the noise level in the room reached deafening levels the rest of the group appeared and slid into the waiting gaps.

When everyone was present they stood at ease in formation, their bergens lined up before their owners neatly. No one spoke. The unnamed woman was tapping her watch looking irritable as the other groups lumbered around them. Delia spotted several alumni from training and offered a few small nods as they passed by. After another ten minutes the double doors swung shut again and by inches the sound of voices faded away slowly as everyone became aware of the tension. As though this was the signal the NCO's stationed at each group were waiting for they began to march down the lines of their respective squads, shouting out names and orders. 

The severe woman, who Delia spotted as she turned was a sergeant, surveyed them all distastefully as though dissapointed from a space a few feet away. 

"Ladies' Delia peered down the line at the statement and realised rather belatedly that there were no men at all, 'I am Sergeant Urusula. I have almost twenty years experience in Northern Ireland, Iraq, Afghanistan and many other places that none of you are at liberty to know about' she eyed them all expectantly, Delia wondered fleetingly if she was hoping for a round of applause after her impressive admission. After an awkward pause where no one moved the woman continued on, looking even more sour. 'I assume, after your long weekend of debauchery and vice,' Delia thought she discerned a very quiet huff from Trixie further along the line, 'that even the slowest of you managed to spare a few moments to research your posting, to assess potential terrain and to prepare yourselves for the trials and tribulations you will face during the seven months you may be away." 

Delia felt her heart sink. She hadn't done anything like that; assuming it would be explained in the briefing before she got on the plane. Hazily, when she'd imagined it she'd foreseen a lecture hall like the one she'd frequented during training. Clearly this would not be the case. Delia surreptitiously tried to look up and down the row, she was gratified to see more than a few blank faces there. Obviously she was not the only one caught off guard.

Apparently noticing this with obvious derision, lip curling the woman breathed heavily through her nose.

"So... by the expressions before me am I to take it that this very simple task has been ignored in favour of God only knows what?!' There was a long pregnant pause that seemed to give birth to ever more embarrassed and awkward smaller pauses as they all forced their faces not to move or cause any further offense. 

Urusla took a deep breath as though praying for patience before launching into a speech so well prepared that Delia wondered if she had not been expecting this afterall; by the slightly manical gleam in her eyes Delia suspected the old hag was enjoying herself immensely.

'Debrecen field hospital is situated approximately one hundred miles from the Tiszabecs border town that separates Hungary from Ukraine. The Russian bears are currently straddling the border and pushing into the region. Prior to our military mobilisation they had ventured close to Debrecen but with our superior training they have been sent back several clicks although it is reported that some of them have remained close by in the area in what is possibly preparation for a retaliatory strike. 

The field hospital and military Base that has been erected for us is non permanent and vulnerable. There are multiple firefights daily and casualty numbers are high. Your role will be to care for those who have been injured in the course of their duty and to stabilise as many soldiers as you can before they are returned to home soil or to the front line.' she eyed them all sharply before adding in a warning voice, 'you will walk beside and shake hands with death every day ladies in this job and I expect all of you to comport yourselves in a professional, reliable and dignified manner at all times. 

The city of Debrecen is the second largest in Hungary after Budapest and has been nearly run to the ground in the past four months. Although many refugees have been granted amnesty in neighbouring countries there are still large numbers who have chosen to remain in their homes.

Due to the nature of the environment you will be expected to carry your weapons, which will be allocated to you in the compound on arrival at all times between shifts. The hospital itself is basic and still under construction at specific points so I will urge you all to exercise caution if stepping away from the main areas. There are several operating theatres and they will need to be manned on a daily basis. On top of this we are also the secondary medical centre for the local city population if the local hospital cannot handle local casualties. Our main focus is the army barracks which means we may be expected to deal with more mundane ailments. I have been advised that due to the influx of other Europeans to the area the local population has been dealing with several epidemics such as foreign strains of common flu, chicken pocks and the more severe shingles alongside the usual fare.

In regards to the locals, although we are obliged to treat them with dignity you should be aware that a growing minority of them are Russian sympathisers who believe that their lives will be improved if Russia assumes control and may use the opportunity of attending the hospital to gather valuable on the ground feedback for the Russians as spies. It is imperative therefore that you all maintain professional boundaries with anyone including the children to avoid passing on seemingly innocuous information. As Lord Kitchener posed: careless talk costs lives."

The squad blinked at the onslaught of information, Delia heard Barbara mumble quietly beside her and knew that she was trialling a method of learning she had used in nurse training, she repeated key words to herself to attempt to lock them in and hopefully prompt herself for the other information when she recalled it. Delia had never had the knack for it before; she felt for the first time real tremors of fear run through her as she accepted the details. This was going to be so messy she could only hope she was up for it. The others seemed just as subdued and the Sergeant appeared pleased with this fact, as though she felt she'd finally created the impact she was hoping for. She cleared her throat expansively after a short pause.

"Weather is a toasty -2 degrees per day with high rain forecast. You will all exchange your packed clothes for an environmentally appropriate set.' She glanced down at her watch, more for show Delia thought nastily, than for any real reason as a second set of double doors opened up against the far wall in front of them. 'We will take the first wave I think, follow me ladies."

Ladies. Delia chewed the word distastefully as she filed after their leader with the others. Small had called them ladies as a final slur if necessary but otherwise they were called soldiers or the squad; Delia did not know if she liked being called ladies. They'd passed out, they were soldiers not children, they had earned the right to be treated as such hadn't they.

Delia continued to mull over her thoughts as she reached a trestle table and unzipped her bergen to exchange her green khaki jacket and trousers for a commoflage printed pair of the same size only in grey and black. 

After they all recieved their items they were marched hastily down a brightly lit hallway to a turn table where they deposited their bags securely before continuing on, following a seemingly well worn path in the shiny tiled floor. They then came to an abrupt halt as an airport official fumbled to open a secure door that led them to a boarding tunnel that bridged the building to large plane docked in the bay. Delia looked through the windowas they stalked through, the voices of the next squad filtering down the hallway a little way off, taking in the dark grey of the planes shell as they waited.

Once on the plane they awkwardly nudged up the central corridor to their seats. Delia was faintly unnerved by the domestic feeling of it all as she took in the clean blue seats and little folding tray. As though they were going on holiday or something rather than the arsehole of the world. They were directed to seats near the back and Delia took the furthest available, sliding down the two seats to nab a window view.

Expecting Barbara to take the seat beside her Delia was surprised when it was Patsy who slumped down beside her with an apologetic face. Looking to the other side of the aisle Delia spied Trixie pushing Barbara into the window seat on the other side having apparently pulled her away from her intended position.

"I think Trixie is in a matchmaker sort of mood" commented Patsy wryly as she settled herself more comfortably into the deep seat.

"Yes... it seems she had a dull weekend." Delia agreed flatly, looking out the window and noticing a steady stream of dark shapes passing through the tunnel. Distractedly she wondered how many people it would take to fill the plane and how many planefuls it would take for the soldiers to all be transported.

"Mmm' Patsy stretched luxuriously, her left arm insinuating itself into Delias line of vision as the bones cracked, 'well I certainly didn't. I'm ready for another weekend off, a whole three days of going to bed when I wanted to, dressing in my own clothes, drinking anything I felt like , I even ate some vegetables; I almost forgot what a carrot looked like you know. Can't believe the amount of fried food they feed you." Patsy sounded wistful even as she stifled a yawn with her hand.

Delia looked at Patsy, a kernel of jealousy spiking in her gut. She did look tired, dark smudges stained the skin beneath her eyes and Delia felt awkward; imagining the various ways Patsy could have used her time to become so exhausted. Probably with her 'people I see' Delia thought glumly. 

"God, I'm knackered, how long do you think the flights going to be?" Patsy asked, yawning again. Delia felt taken aback at Patsys abnormal chatty attitude and shrugged.

"I dunno, old sergeant major didn't say. A few hours I suppose but they have to board everyone yet. You'll probably get enough time for a nap if you want one." 

"I think I might Deels, I'm absolutely drained. Hungary sounds ghastly though, I think we'll all be exhausted by the end." Patsy was smiling almost softly at Delia, head resting at an angle on the head rest. Delia felt something snap.

"Did you tell Trixie I rang you after the London?" The question was defensive, Trixie smirk flashing behind Delias eyes. Patsy lifted her head, brows raised but not appearing ruffled by the rather abrupt question or gruff tone.

"No. I wasn't sure if it was you. I mentioned it in passing before we even started basic. It was you then?" Although Patsy appeared calm Delia noticed the fingers started twiddling again.

"Oh' Delia felt herself deflate slightly as her face coloured, 'Well, I just wanted to check. Trixie was hinting a little heavily before you turned up. I just wondered if you'd been talking about me." Delias voice became quieter and quieter as she went on; embarrassed.

"No... No I haven't spoken to her,' Patsy was still calm, her words sounded slow as though she was considering them carefully, 'but does this mean it was you calling me that night Deels?" Delia flushed deeper and looked back out the window. The stream of people seemed to be thinning now.

"I just... needed to know you were alright" Delia whispered in a small voice, refusing to meet Patsys eye until the warmth of a hand enclosing her own forced her to look. Patsy was leaning over slightly to study Delias face, her own expression hard to read.

"You should have stayed on the line. I was sitting in my flat wishing you would ring when the phone went. I thought I was going mad." Patsys voice was still soft. Delia bit her lip.

"I panicked, you said my name and I suddenly didn't know what to say to you... I'm sorry."

"It's alright, I'm hardly the poster child for good communication myself." Patsy released Delias hand slowly, Delia could still feel the imprint of her fingers on her skin and stifled an urge to pull them back.

They both sat in companiable silence as the rustling of the others getting into their seats along the corridor travelled down to them. After half an hour where it seemed everyone had finally boarded the stewards went through the rigmarole of acting out the safety moves in the event of a crash at the end of the compartment and the seatbelt light flared on above their heads with a loud ping. The floor vibrated slightly as the engines slowly came to life. Delia felt her body tense as the captain greeted them over the intercom cheerfully.

Patsy noticed her hands gripping the arm rests, knuckles white and shot her an understanding glance.

"Still don't like taking off?" She whispered questioningly. Probably recalling the holiday Delia had pushed her face into Patsys neck as the plane ascended. It was a childish fear but Delia felt her stomach flip flop as the tarmac outside began to swish past at growing speeds. Delia nodded statically. Not trusting herself to talk.

"Here' Patsy extended an arm, one corner of her mouth lifting and wrapped it over Delia shoulder; pulling her closer, 'for old times sake". Embarrassed but knowing it would help Delia burrowed her face into the scratchy fabric of Patsys jacket until the sound of engines quietening filled the air. 

When she resurfaced Patsys face was very close, her mouth open and her tongue pushing against the back of her teeth.

"Better?" She asked, her voice inexplicably hoarse. Delia nodded sheepishly.

"Sorry, I guess I watched too many disaster mocie with my dad as a kid". Delia whispered. Patsy still had an arm around her, keeping her close.

"S'alright, it's nice to be able to do something to help you for a change." Patsy murmured quietly.

"You can put your head on my shoulder to sleep if you want." Delia said quietly, noticing Trixie watching them owlishly from the opposite row with a rather pleased face and feeling suddenly shy. Patsy hesitated for a moment as though surprised and then her mouth widened into a full lipped smile.

"You know Delia, I think that's honestly the best offer I've had in ages." The hand at Delias back slipped away and the arm rest was swiftly flicked up as Patsy shuffled close to slot her head in the hollow of Delias neck. The smell of bleach and vanilla shampoo surrounded Delia and filled her senses as Patsy shuffled around slightly to get comfortable.

After a pause where Delia thought Patsy must feel her racing pulse from her position close by her main artery Delia allowed her body to relax. Hesitantly she lifted her arm to rest around Patsys shoulder, feeling the sharp bone of her collar protrude against her fingertips. Without conscious thought she let her fingers draw patterns on the fabric of the jacket, the sensation familiar and soothing.

Patsy sighed contentedly. Somehow they both fell asleep in this position quickly. When Barbara nudged Trixie ten minutes later and pointed to their friends laughing Trixie rolled her eyes.

"Don't know who they think their fooling the damned idiots." She muttered under her breath so Barbara wouldn't hear as the plane banked East and the clouds swirled over the sky like question marks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, I know its been a week since my last update. What can I say; CQC, my nephews got chicken pox and his dad dropped him off in despair and my mother in law had a heart attack. 
> 
> Happily, the dust has settled somewhat and I've managed to wrangle a cheeky few days off wahey!
> 
> Anyhoo hope this offering is enough to keep you interested in the story...
> 
> Mwah  
> SB
> 
> Ps: have now run out of lines for the chapter titles, the poem has ended (mainly because what was supposed to be one chapter became three several times over, woops) and thoughts on what I should use next?


	17. Out there, we've walked quite friendly up to Death,-

The plane returned to earth several hours later. The slight awkward moment as Patsy and Delia realised how long they'd been asleep was quickly swept away and overshadowed by the strange silence that filled the cabin. 

All faces seemed tense, the lack of laughter was oppressive as the captain solemnly thanked them for their custom over the tannoy and row by row they were ushered down the walkway, out of exits and into the bridging tunnel. 

Delia craned her neck as the press of bodies pushed them along to see through the dirty windows of the sloped bridge. The airport building looked shabby from this vantage point; the white painted concrete walls were stained and muted against the dark setting of storm clouds. 

Looking out through the window Delia noticed that there were no other planes docked along the runway and the car park, a drab looking square of darker tarmac far off, seemed near empty with only a handful of cars. The gold rimmed control tower winking in the the weak light from the skyline looked as though it had weathered a storm, several of the panes of glass in the structure had been boarded up, the line of black glass disturbed by brown squares. Delia thought it strange that they hadn't fixed it immediately; she wondered what else had taken precendent over this rather important feature.

Stepping into the airport she was struck by the eery lack of people. There was an odd odour hanging in the air like an unaired bed. The airport was large and yet the staff in their black vests and slacks were small in number. The place had a deserted feel to it, the corners dirty as though no one cared about the lingering aura of neglect anymore.

As the wave of soldiers walked past the assembled locals Delia thought she saw a few shake their heads at one another, faces pained. They were mainly women she noted; with pinched eyes and palid complexions that made them look as though they needed a good meal and a sleep.

As the nurses passed by a pair of particularly skinny orderlies standing by the turntable to retrieve their bags Delia spotted one of the two break away to clasp the arm of a particularly young looking private further up. The woman eyed the blonde man sorrowfully and pressed something into his hand mumbling in broken Hungarian to the non understanding audience before her. The boy held up the item to his scowling NCO in an obvious attempt to avoid being reprimanded, his mouth set into a scared sort of pout and Delia recognised a set of battered rosary beads with a little wooden cross carved at the end hanging from between his hesitant fingers.

The boy tried to pass the thing back, apparently unnerved but the women still spoke intently to him, her voice becoming louder and louder and turning into something like a shriek when no one appeared to understand her. At seeing her gift being returned she held up her hands shakily and shook her head violently.

"Keep on moving! Whats the fucking hold up!" Shouted someone further back loudly and they all started, unaware they had paused to watch the affecting scene, immediately pushing along once more, faces turned away in mute embarrassment. Delia couldn't help but watch though, the woman was clasping the privates arm as though she wanted to drag him away with her. Her words were becoming rushed as the boy tried to move, her head twisting as though she were in terrible pain.

"You poor poor boys!" Called the woman to them all in English, her accent making the words come out strangely, the syllables falling into awkward rhythms, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. As the boy finally managed to wrench his arm free and stepped out of reach hurriedly the woman gave a gut wrenching cry, pulling at her hair as though she meant to rip it out of her scalp. It was then that her friend, who had so far watched the womans non sensical entreaties with a look of pity in her eyes strode forward, face set into an expressionless mask and dragged the cawing lady back to the wall forcefully by her forearms, murmuring softly in Hungarian, her arms restraining her stiffly to prevent her from rushing at the soldiers again. 

The squad moved on after grabbing their bags quickly once they were past the struggling pair but the moans of the Hungarian woman followed them like a persistent echo. It set everyones teeth on edge. Patsy was looking over at Delia, brows furrowed and pale; Delia couldn't blame her, she too felt shaken by what she'd seen. 

They were then marched into a large foyer that was smaller than the ballroom in Luton. They all cramped in, uncomfortably close to each other as they attempted to slide into formation. There was little room to put down their bags against the tight constraints of so many people so they had to keep them on their backs which made standing at ease tricky. Delia felt the straps sliding down her shoulder every thirty seconds and was forced to periodically shrug to reposition them, a move which earned her a filthy look from sergeant Ursula as she passed by shouting the few stragglers into position.

The older woman looked in her element; she was practically bouncing on her heels, face glowing horribly. Delia noticed she'd already changed into the new uniform and had somehow procured a helmet which was balanced on her head, the chin strap tightened. Her bag was noticeably absent however and Delia wondered which poor soul was currently carrying it alongside their own.

The air was thick with shouts from NCO's, and the shuffling of many booted feet on tiled flooring. Near to a set of wide double set of glass doors that Delia noticed bore signs of recent damage, one with a great shatter along its entire length and the other boarded at the bottom there were two armed soldiers in full combat gear. To the side of them was an enormous table groaning under the weight of rifles. In an orderly pile on the floor behind it there were even more. Delia gulped.

Squad by squad they were ordered up to the table to retrieve their weapons. Delia couldn't understand why they were getting them here, surely it could wait until they got to the compound. The nurses, predictably, were one of the last groups to be called up and Delia dutifully followed Shelagh to sign her name next to her rifle number on a ruffled peice of paper tagged to a bulging pile on a clip board.

She accepted a box of ammunition magazines from a tight lipped soldier and tucked it into her jacket hurriedly before taking her rifle. The metal felt warm under her fingers. The butt very smooth as though it had been slid into position many times. 

When everyone was equipped, the clatter of rifles clanking against heaving bergens and jackets, they all stood waiting, mouths taught. The NCO's were all looking about expectantly. Delia couldn't shake the feeling that they all looked a little foolish; kids playing dress up. 

From behind a swell of tall men to the right a loud voice piped up, the source invisible but the tone clearly projecting an air of authority. Everyone stilled, frozen into place.

"Company, Attention!" 

As one, every arm in the room straightened instinctively, the windows rattled ominously as a few hundred boots crashed to the floor in booming unison.

"Listen very clearly, Debrecen Base is a twenty minute journey. Due to an incident last week the trains we had previously planned to use are no longer at our disposal. As such we will be moving in convoy to the compound through the city of Debrecen. 

This is an active war zone and you are all expected to act accordingly. You all have your weapons, load them, right now. Go!" 

Delia fumbled into her pocket, pulling out a heavy magazine. Slapping it into the slot and flicking open the chamber to ensure the barrel was clear before releasing the charge handle. The sound of clicking echoed around her.

Click, click, click.

"In the waiting vehicles you will all find helmets and kevlar vests on each seat; they are yours to keep' the voice continued smoothly, 'you will remain in your core groups for the journey and then attend your posts as directed once we're home and dry.

During the journey it is very likely we may be waylaid by possible malingerers from the Russian army. They have been laying mines in the more well travelled routes. It is imperative that if we are disturbed the bulk of the convoy continue on. The Base is low on man power and we cannot afford heavy casualties. We will be followed by escorting chinooks who will dispose of any trouble for us.

You will be called in your squads to the trucks and anyone found pissing about will spend their first night in the cells. 

Now; corporals, sergeants proceed in your duty." The voice cut off as the NCO's immediately sprang to life like military jack in the boxes and began shouting down their lines. 

The bulk of the troops were infantry and they marched out first, some calling to mates as they spilled out the doors. Then went the REMY crew, loaded down with strange boxes of computer things.

The nurses went before the catering core, Ursula leading the way; proud as a duchess. They all blinked in the weak mid afternoon light as they stepped out through the battered doors. A huge array of vehicles greeted them, parked in long lines. Delia spotted large humvees, tanks, transport trucks and open topped armoured cars with guns built into them. The journeys run suddenly seeming more worrying as the squad was directed into the back of a people carrier with flimsy canvas walls and metal benches bolted to the floor on three sides.

As they entered the truck, already half filled with a gaggle of men from the REMY, there were a few wolf whistles sent their way, most seemingly aimed at Trixie and Patsy. 

"Ooh look boys totty!"

"Nurses? Girls I've got a few aches I could do with you sorting."

"Blondie! You can have more fun with me if you want."

"Eh, Ginge! Do the curtains match the carpet?"

Trixie paused at the barrage of cat calls before raising a sarcastic eyebrow and sashaying to her seat, hips swinging provocatively in retaliation. Barbara followed closely to her back, apparently hoping to be noticed less in comparison. Patsy lifted her face and walked casually to her seat, appearing as though she could not hear the jeering calls thrown her way. Delia watched her go, feeling slightly amused by the calls. Patsy scowled at her from her seat and Delia hastened to follow, smiling reassuringly.

"Hey little nurse, dont worry, we're all the same size laying down, I'd still hang out the back of you if you're snooty mate thinks she's too good for it!" Called a spotty looking youth who'd yet to put on his helmet or vest. He was leering at Delia, his hand grasping the fork of his trousers and Delia felt her smile slip from her face. The lips stayed in place but suddenly her teeth were more visible as Delia changed course recklessly and walked slowly to stand before him.

"Did you say something to me Private?" She asked, making her voice soft, seductive. The boys Adams apple bobbed as he appraised Delia standing above him. A few of his friends laughed and nudged his ribs and shoulder. The boy nodded his head a shade cockily and smoothed his hair with a flat hand.

"Yeah I did. I said I'll smash your back doors in any time of the day sweetheart, just say the word." He replied, his voice a little shaky as though he was reaching his limit for bravery but none the less refused to back down in front of his mates. Delia gave a light, tinkling laugh and shook back her hair making it flick out.

"Okay. Word." She said very clearly, making sure to keep her voice friendly. The boys eyes flickered, his smile dying in spirit but still ghosting on his face as he took in the womans straight expression.

"What?" He asked, suddenly sounding nervous and Delia let her smile grow wider, not looking away from the boys eyes.

"I said word. Come on then, don't tell me I've picked a lad all mouth and no trousers. You and me right now, come on." The boy giggled nervously, his cheeks glowing red as his friends roared in amusement.

"Go on Glen, show her your wares" chuckled a boy about the same age a few men down, wiping tears from his eyes in mirth at his friends predicament.

"What, here?" The boy asked croakily, his knees pressing together tightly looking far less certain. Delia laughed and grabbed the boys helmet from the bench beside him. He flinched as the back of her hand touched his thigh.

"Thats right lad, right here and right now.' she rammed the helmet onto his head roughly, it wasn't properly fitted yet and his ears stuck out. 'But I'd put this on if I were you, I'm known as a bit of a wildcat but I'm sure you'll handle me eventually." The boy cowered as though stung. Everyone laughed. Out of the corner of Delias eye she saw Patsy watching her closely and smiling with everyone else, she felt warmth spread into her insides. Glen was sitting in his chair, mouth hanging open looking rather foolish with his hat hanging off his head at an angle.

"Look lady it was a joke. I didn't mean..." He stammered quickly looking mortified. Delia chewed her lip thoughtfully and made a show of scanning around her, meeting many male faces who watched her interestedly.

"Well it seems I've been jilted lads. Anyone else want to make me an offer I couldn't refuse while I'm here?" She asked to the van at large, her chin pointed defiantly. There were even more chuckles now, most men shook their heads amused but one stood up, his friends cheering and walked up to Delia undoing his fly looking insolent.

"Well if your desperate for it nurse, I've got what you've been dreaming of." Delia felt a tingle of worry but schooled her features into an unimpressed facade as she looked the man up and down. He was big with boulderish shoulder muscles and tattoos on his forearms, black hair and grey eyes. He was still fumbling at the fly of his bdu's, tongue poking out cheekily, while his mates jeered.

"What is the meaning of all this!" Called the ice cold voice of sergeant Urusula who was clambering up the doorway her face thunderous as she took in Delia and the soldier standing in the middle of the van with the others shrieking around them. Delia saw Patsy make to stand up before being tugged back down hurriedly by Trixie warningly.

"This soldier wanted to show me his assets sergeant." Delia called over her shoulder, refusing to look cowed. The soldier merely smirked over at her, his hands slowly drifting from his crotch.

Ursula did not immediately react, her eyes studying the scene, taking in the still laughing men and the nurses ranged in one corner, her lips pursed.

"Well I think we'd all like to see that private Busby. You' she shouted at the private, her voice snapping like a whip, 'come here and show me." The soldier took another step back, hands at his sides as he took in the formidable NCO before him, looking sideways to his friends for support. They edged away. Delia held back a snigger.

"Are you deaf as well as stupid private! Come here and show me what you thought everyone needed to see, come on! Whip it out boy!" Urusula barked. Cringing, no way out evident, the man dawdled over to stand before the superior and slowly unzipped his trousers. He whipped out his cock very quickly looking like he'd quite like the floor to open up and eat him as he fixed his eyes to it.

Ursula surveyed him dispassionately down her long nose, her face unimpressed as she stared at the mans crotch, eyebrows raised comically high.

"Young man,' she said quietly so they all had to strain to listen, 'In all my years I have seen more meat on a butchers pencil. Go back to your seat and do not bother my squad again."

The van faintly rattled with the rest of the men's guffaws as the soldier in question stuffed his penis back in his trousers and scurried back to his seat, head down. Delia took the opportunity to scuttle into her own place beside Patsy who squeezed her thigh as they both watched in amazement their NCO sit down gracefully on her seat near the entrance, looking serene.

"You're an idiot" Patsy murmured from the corner of her mouth.

"You know me, stubborn as a rock." Delia whispered back.

"Yes well,' Patsy conceded, 'sometimes I hate your stubborn streak." They both laughed lightly.

The van juddered for a moment and then they all were rocked as the vehicle began to move. Delia and the other nurses slipped on their vests and helmets. Both felt heavy and Delia gave her head an experimental shake to make sure the helmet was tight enough. 

The men around them chattered loudly, still laughing at the disgraced two men the Welsh woman had seen off who scowled from their places at the lighthearted ribbing.

From between the canvas flaps of the opening Delia stared out into the landscape they travelled through, the barrel of Patsys rifle poking her elbow as they were jostled. 

They past through a set of wire gates attached to a new looking barbed wire fence at the perimeter of the airport. It, out of everything she'd seen so far, looked brand new. 

The roads beyond that seemed abandoned, no other vehicles past by and the roads were grey and pot holed. After five minutes large buildings grew up around them. Shining glass shone down, rich looking marble buildings with ripped and holed flags hung from poles here and there. The streets too looked desolate, no signs of life flashing out from within the once grand city. 

The van took a sharp left, the soldiers all grumbled as they banged into one another. Delia gasped. She wasn't the only one.

This new street was no less grand, one particularly opulent fronted building looked like a bank of some sort. But that wasn't why everyone had fallen deadly silent. 

The street was a wreck, cars were piled up on both sides, apparently abandoned. The fronts were strewn with debris, dust. Great chunks of stone littered the route as the van swerved around them, clearly carved from the buildings themselves. As the truck navigated around a particularly tricky patch Delia spied something small and yellow next to a car with bullet holes in the windows of its windscreen. There were nasty brown stains along the passenger door, clumsy hand prints. As they passed by Delia realised the yellow thing was a small toy digger. Beside it was a tiny white shoe, a childs thing. There was blood marring the sole she noted. 

Stealing a glance at her neighbour she nudged Patsys boot and pointed at the object wordlessly. Patsy followed her gesturing finger and squinted at the objects frowning. Delia watched as recognition flooded Patsys face and her head snapped back looking disgusted. Delia hoisted the rifle a little more securely in her arms as the van swerved again and the sight dissappeared from view.

The perspective did not improve as they pushed on. Each street offered fresh horrors. Some buildings had been destroyed completely and the convoy was forced to make wide arches to avoid the rubble or patches of destroyed road. Debrecen had been a beautiful city. No longer.

The laughter had ended now, no one was smiling any longer. All eyes were glued to the opening of the van, all hands poised on weapons as they traversed ruined lines of flats and shops. 

After fifteen long, tense minutes the truck made a final swerve onto a main road and the driver called back to them they were close to the base. As one the group breathed a sigh of relief, keen to enter the relative safety of the base and appreciative murmers started to build as they relaxed somewhat.

Glen, the boy Delia had embarrassed, apparently wanting to reaffix his bravery stood up and strode the opening, the straps of his helmet swinging loose by his cheeks and poked his head through the gap between the canvas flaps, apparently looking how far they had to go.

There was the faint noise of something popping like a cork being released from a bottle of champagne and the boy lurched weirdly. His body flopping against the constraints of the fabric press studded together to head height. 

Delia froze. This wasn't right.

There was a silence as more corks popped from outside. Sergeant Urusula was closest and dragged the boy back by the tails of his jacket, he followed the pull sharply, crashing to the floor on his back, his helmet rolling off his head and spinning on the floor like a dropped coin, curving round and round before rattling to lay flat once more by Delias boot. 

The squad stared at Glen in horror. Blood, thick shiny red blood was glooping from his neck where it had been ripped open by a bullets passing. The boys eyes were bulging in his face, the once smiling mouth opening and closing spasmically as he stared at the roof of the van.

Delia sprang into action first, throwing herself onto her knees and placing two hands over the wound.

"Bandages! Someone rip something up for bandages now!" She heard herself scream. Glen was shivering beneath her hands, blood staining the front of his jacket as his legs and arms twitched. He looked oddly calm. His body going into shock. The blood wasn't slowing, squeezing through the gaps in Delias fingers.

There was a flood of movement around her as jackets were ripped off bodies and torn up. The fabric breaking into strips and filling the air. Delia whispered to the boy who looked at her frightened and pale as he bled out.

"W-' he mouthed uselessly, voice faint. Delia nodded encouragingly.

"It's ok Glen, we've got you" She whispered to the boy softly, trying not to let her voice tremble. Patsy was beside her now, passing khaki strips of jacket to Delia, face focused as she lifted the boys head to pull a strip underneath.

"We need to secure his neck after this." She said loudly. Trixie was at the boys feet, lifting them to force blood down to the important organs. Barbara was on the other side of Delia, pulling at zips on the boys jacket hurriedly to free the chest area. Delia began winding the strips round the boys neck tightly as he choked, blood flecking from his mouth.

"I want my mum" He bit out hoarsely, staring at Delia pleadingly. Delia felt her heart fall past her boots. He looked so much more like a child. There was so much blood, the boys eyes were closing as sticky puddles grew around the nurses knees.

Everyone suddenly rocked as a loud boom rent the air. Delia instinctively lowered her body protectively across her patient as the van jumped and swerved, picking up speed.

Delia craned her head round to look through the back quickly for the source of the new drama and gasped. The cargo van that had been in front of them was laying on its side, one wheel spinning as another rolled away burning. It was on fire, the back ablaze and from far off the sounds of screams flew at them. Someone cursed loudly in the van and then the screech of gunfire pitter pattering found them.

It was so loud they all cringed. Patsys hand found Delias back and tried to tug the Welsh woman closer to the floor, closer to safety, as the canvas walls billowed about them. The boy on the floor still gasped and twitched uselessly. Delia snapped back her attention, shaking off Patsys restraining arm as the noise of gates screaming open came from up ahead somewhere.

The bandages seemed to be helping Delia saw with grim satisfaction. The blood seemed less somehow or maybe Glen just didn't have anything left in him. His eyes were still open, the mouth still opened and closed like a fish out of water. 

He wasn't dead yet.

The truck trundled past the gates as machine guns flared up from unseen sentry points. The back door was ripped apart violently by disembodied voices and someone, Urusula possibly, called for a stretcher and medics loudly.

They were safe it seemed.

Delia would have laughed if it had been a better joke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've honestly been quite torn about whether I should post this chapter and subsequently the rest of the fic after the events of Manchester. I wasn't sure if writing something like war would seem crude, unfair or voyeuristic now given how sensitive everyone is. I didn't want anyone to feel anxious because of the setting although I understand its nothing related to terrorism as a few people have said the news had scared them and they've avoided reading this fic because of how I've written it.
> 
> After a long little think I've decided to continue writing this simply because im a stubborn mule at times and don't want to change what I do because of one cowards actions.
> 
> Chapter heading is the first line of 'The next war' by Wilfred Owen
> 
> Hope your having a nice day
> 
> SB


	18. Sat down and eaten with him; cool and bland,-

Hands ripped Delias away roughly. A small crowd of people who moved too fast to get a good look at jumped aboard. Patsy wrapped her arms around Delias waist and heaved her back so she half rested in the red heads laps to make space for the EMT's. They worked impressively fast, lifting him to a stretcher, applying blood and tubing. Within minutes the boy was bundled out of the back and stolen away in the darkness of a wide booted hummer. 

The wheels squealed as they turned on cold soil and travelled east. Little clouds of dust poofed up where they travelled, the back rocked as it sped off. They were still working on Glen in there.

Everyone breathed harshly, several mens clothes were strewn on the floor, torn and spoiled. Bandages snaked around the floor. The young man who looked the same age as Glen was crying. An older man was wrapping an arm over his shoulder whispering into his ear while the boy rocked trying to master himself.

Patsys arms were still hooked around Delias sides. Her sweaty forehead pressed to the nape of Delias neck as she sucked in air. Delia felt numb. Her hands were stained, the knees just as bad. The floor would need hosing out when they were gone.

Urusla rallied first and lept from the back to stride towards a likely looking pair of soldiers leaning by a doorway.

Delia pulled herself away from Patsy and edged to the door herself wanting to get out of the small space. She shivered as she felt the hands around her tighten imperceptibly for a heartbeat before releasing her. 

Her boots slapped the earth sharply as Delia alighted to the ground, the air felt bitter or maybe it was the adrenaline in her system. Urusula was already on her way back looking pale but still in control as she led the retrieved men and lent through the doorway.

"REMY soldiers are to follow corporal Perth to your barracks. Nurses will follow me. Leave the van in an orderly fashion, no pushing." She warned Casandra like as someone squaked from the back when the larger men stood up.

"What about Glen!" Called the boy who'd been crying, his eyes were dry now but his chin wobbled still. His voice was an accusation of sorts; it must be hard to understand the need to keep everyone moving right now, but Delia knew it was necessary. If they paused too long it would be harder.

"The injured private is on his way to the field hospital where we shall shortly attend; barring any hold ups with unhelpful questions." Barked Urusula harshly, the boy scowled but bent to pick his gear up when his neighbour nudged him and sent a quelling look.

Everyone piled out into the air. Delia shiver from the cold; it was bloody Arctic, she stamped her feet a few times to keep the blood circulating.

The REMY lot dissappeared from view, voices blurring into one low pitch as they rounded a bend. The boy had taken Glens rifle and bergen.

Urusula turned to the nurses, face set resolutely.

"Good work in there people but there will be more before the days out. Given everyones appearance we'll change in the baracks before meeting up with our envoy. I have already sent word of our intentions; follow me." 

Delia glanced at the others, they all looked as woe begone as she felt. They hadn't even been here an hour yet.

They all followed their leader as she cut through the camp with a knowing step. Delia didn't know what she was looking for, everything looked the same like a cartoon hallway; the same maid and pot plant passing by the characters. The caml seemed to be made entirely from thick canvassed tents in neat rows. Indistinguishable in their uniformity.

After twenty minutes Urusula sniffed appreciatively as they approached several enormous tents set near the back wall of the compound. Poking her head into several as they walked by she eventually settled on the fifth and beckoned them to follow.

Inside were rows of immaculately kept cot beds with matching steel wardrobes. Delia was reminded of Deepcut, the place was a watered down replica. The space was divided by a row of benches lined down the centre of the long room. Some of the beds near the front seemed already occupied. Clothes hung in the wardrobes and someone had left a cardboard box with magazines in the center of the room. On one bed was a small hi-fi, another boasted a stack of CDs. Delia blinked at the previously thought unlikely prospect of music during their rest periods. 

The squad chose to stick together as best they could. Patsy unloaded her bergen at the bed beside Delia while Delia did the same. There was a toilet block beside the barracks and Delia hastened to visit it washing the blood from her hands and splashing her face to try and stay alert.

When she returned the majority of the group had changed into the new kit, the mass of bodies looking strangely hypnotic with the new colours. No green anywhere.

Delia quickly stripped and changed into her own new clothes as the door opened and a stranger walked in purposefully. A man, older, maybe in his late forties with brown floppy hair and kind looking eyes. He shook Urusulas hand when they met and the two of them spoke briefly off to one side. Delia watched them curiosly as she bent to retie one of her boots. She flinched for a moment as someone sunk to their knees in front of her but relaxed as she recognised Patsy. The red head smiled quickly and then began tying Delias other lace. 

The sergeant and the stranger was striding down the room to them and Delia and Patsy quickly got to their feet. The man wore a white coat. Doctor.

"Squad, Attention!" Commanded Urusula crisply and they all dutifully assumed the position. The doctor recoiled slightly from the noise Delia noticed. Not army then.

"Dr Turner is chief medical officer at Debrecen hospital and is here to brief you, listen closely as we are in the grips of an impending medical emergency. I trust you will find my squad entirely useful." Ursula barked at them as though daring them to make her a liar. Delia saw Barbara wilt slightly under the implied pressure.

"Well, er, men the situation is volatile and ever growing. It seems that you were ambushed by mines laid out along the route. Looking around I have no doubt that you will all be wonderfully competent and indeed I think I see a familiar face amongst you all." The squad followed the mans gaze where it had fixed on Shelagh. Urusla looked between man and woman distractedly.

"You already know each other?" She asked shortly. Dr Turner nodded enthusiastically.

"Nurse Mannion and I have indeed met before, several times in fact.' Dr Turner strolled over to Shelagh and shook her hand enthusiastically, 'She was my sons primary nurse when he contracted viral meningitis several years ago. An absolute joy to see you again sister." Shelagh blushed as she smiled.

"How is Timothy sir? He was such a sweet young man, you should be so proud of him."

"He's doing very well, he's with his aunt in London while I'm out here. He's studying for his a-levels; plans to be a doctor or so he tells me.' He smiled widely, dimples flashing at his cheeks as he stared at Shelagh brightly. 'Tim still raves about the famous Nurse Mannion. Do you know you almost made him consider a life as a musician after smuggling in that Keyboard to his room when he was struggling with his physiotherapy?' His eyes softened perceptibly as he spoke about his child, 'I hope you know I hold you entirely responsible for how many times I had to listen to Beethovens moonlight sonata on repeat.' He rubbed his ear excitedly with his free hand, the other still clasping Shelaghs hand, as he drank in Shelagh like she were the sun itself. Delia and Patsy shared a conspiratorial glance to one another; amused. 'I am so very pleased to see you again nurse; my hero." Shelagh turned completely scarlet at the compliment and smiled a little shyly now at the doctor.

"It was nothing sir. You always do more for your own. I mean' she added hastily, 'one of the staffs. I remember how hard you worked at the hospital, squeezing in surgeries between visiting hours. It seems littles changed, you're an inspiration to us all."

The two of them gazed at each other for a moment until Trixie cleared her throat loudly and they broke apart, appearing to realise they were still surrounded by expectant nurses. Dr Turner coughed loudly, Shelagh finally dropped the mans hands looking embarrassed. 

"Yes, well.' Dr Turner babbled, a little dazed, 'its wonderful to meet you all. As you have already gathered from your rather bumpy entrance we are a busy hospital. Our staff has been fairly depleted the last few weeks as the camps expanded to fill other nations armies. Your input is gratefully received I assure you. Actually, now I come to think of it I believe a soldier was injured from your truck. Which one of you was the first responder?" Delia looked to the floor, not wanting to be noticed but Patsy pointed a finger to Delias head, a hint of pride in her voice.

"Nurse Busby was quickest, she applied compression to the wound as soon as he was struck sir." Dr Turner appraised Delia quickly before nodding appreciatively.

"You should be commended Nurse, your quick work very possibly saved the young mans life. I'm highly impressed at your speed. He's in theatre now but his chaces are high.' He caught Urusulas eye, 'someone to keep an eye on sergeant." Urusula bobbed her head, staring at Delia for a moment dismissively.

"It has already been noted sir, however all of my squad are highly experienced and keen for work. I believe we should begin immediately." She said in a business like tone. Dr Turner frowned but turned to the squad looking suddenly grim.

"Quite right. Okay, as far as I'm aware there are several serious burn victims being removed from wreckage as we speak. Sadly, I suspect many will be pronounced dead at the scene, those will be taken to the morgue on arrival. I'm afraid the damned place is used far too often.' He sucked at his cheeks looking haunted for a moment before his expression cleared and he clapped his hands together loudly as though rousing himself. 'There are three emergency surgical theatres in operation but during pique moments we have occasionally been forced to use the hallways or bays. It can become very busy very quickly and then fall dead, pardon the wording, without notice.

Our main priority is stabilising critical patients and returning them to England where they can deal with the more long term therapies. If you would like to follow me I'll take you to the triage ward where the majority of you will be based."

He turned on his heel smoothly and the squad followed him wordlessly out of the tent, grabbing rifles as they went hastily, through thin strips of bare earth that cut the space between more tents. The smell of cooking reached them as they wandered passed a huge open sided tent where a line of soldiers waited in a queue, mess tins in hands, at a long stainless steel counter. Delias stomach grumbled faintly as she identified bacon in the midst of the other scents. She wished she'd thought to pack a bag of sweets in her jacket.

Debrecen field hospital was a hastily eretected pre fab building with small windows that looked as though they had never been opened if the number of spiderwebs were any indication. There was a large clear space of earth at the front with tyre marks jumbled up in the loose dirt; ambulances conspicuously absent, probably at the scene. 

The sound of gun fire still stammered every now and again but the main fight appeared to be over. The front would be full enough soon it seemed.

Inside the building the corridor floor made the nurses boots echo. The place stank of antiseptic, a smell so cloying and heavy several people coughed and Dr Turner looked around at them all apologetically;

"Cleanliness is next to godliness here, we might not be able to save everyone but we must avoid infection at all costs, an epidemic of anything would be devastating. I'm sure you can all understand." They all nodded, Delia felt her eyes water.

Through a set of swinging double doors they walked. Bays of bandaged but non seriously injured men swam past their vision. They watched the nurses walk through the space with dull eyes, some ignored them entirely, looking back to a book or a puzzle magazine appearing uninterested in the newcomers.

Through yet another set of swinging doors and they stopped in the middle of a large room with a drain in the middle of the floor. The antiseptic smell increased here so much even Patsy cleared her throat at the sting in the air. The room was divided into empty bays with hoskins beds and at rest machinary all flashing cheerfully from their familiar positions. A number of nurses were rushing about, passing bags of blood and saline along with fresh bedding to each other as they bustled. Clearly the absent room mates. None of them looked up as the doors swung behind the squad. Their skin looked faintly grey and many seemed older than their years as they hurried from bay to bay laying out trauma gear.

Dr Turner walked up to a small group of people standing in the center of the room who were watching the nurses disinterestedly as they spoke to one another. Delia would have to see their hand writing to be certain but by their stillness they looked higher up the chain than the others. Her suspicions were confirmed when Turner beckoned the squad closer with a crooked finger.

"Squad these are my colleagues, all excellent trauma surgeons; Fenton, Mawdesley, Achmed and Fatima.' He nodded at each one in turn. They were all men bar one long legged blonde who surveyed the squad with interest. Delia might have imagined it but she thought the good Drs gaze may have lingered slightly longer than necessary on Patsy. Delia narrowed her eyes at the woman, disliking her on very simple principles.

"We're happy to have you here ladies, your work will be invaluable I'm sure,' said Fenton, Delia thought she had an oily sort of voice. 'and sadly that work is needed shortly' she turned her attention back to Dr Turner, 'Patrick, Ika rang five minutes ago, they're bringing the worst cases in now, twenty are critical and ten dead at the scene. There's a few stragglers who can be seen later the lucky souls. We've prepped the theatres but we'll have to assess who goes first when they get here, some may have died in transport; major burn victims are an obvious, some are reported to have almost 90% coverage but a few have GSW's aswell and we need to ensure internals are corrected first.' The blonde looked back to the squad sharply, 'I suggest you lot get PPE'd up, this will be messy."

The squad didn't need to be told twice. As one they broke away, dropped their rifles in a corner and retrieved plastic aprons, gloves and a basic package of supplies. Delia recalled this build up from her time in London. Sometimes the waiting was the hardest bit, once she fell into her stride she knew she'd forget everything but her work. She was good at it. 

Beside her Barbara was trying to re-glove having pulled too hard with shaky fingers and ripped the rubber on her first attempt. Patsy was a little way off tying Trixies apron securely, already dressed. 

The doors swung open as Barbara managed to replace her glove. The sounds of screaming travelled up the corridor as wheels squealed loudly on the floor. Dr Turner stood at the entrance and directed the beds to bays as they slammed into the room.

"Bay 1. Bay 2. Bay 3- My God, take him to surgery now, Dr Achmed this ones all yours." Delia caught a glance of a paramedic straddling a man, pumping his bloody chest while something thick and limp hung from down the side of the stretcher. Intestine by the size, they must had been exposed. Fuck. There would be a sizable hole in the mans abdomin she'd wager.

Hurriedly, they all split up to each take a bed as the other nurses did the same. The casualties were still coming in a loud cacophony of muted cries and shouts of vital signs from the EMTs. Delia skidded to a bay half way down the row where a paramedic with blood all down his front was rattling off the patients stats to a cool faced Dr. Fatima.

"-BP dropped halfway here but they've come back up since we plugged him with a bag of O neg, 20 cc's of epi and a shot of morphine, he was sitting above the rear wheel by the look of it when they hit the mine. Bastards lucky to still have his legs but the eyes had it." 

Fatima was inspecting the man carefully as the EMT finished transferring the connections from his portable equipment to the machines at the station. The patient twitched and groaned but only a little; either he'd passed out or the morphine was doing its job. 

Delia scanned him with a professional eye as she drew closer, he was on his back, face turned towards the other side of the bed, his jacket stunk of charcoal and smoke, there were dark brown stains on his uniform but no visible open wounds, quite possibly someone else's. When Fatima lent forward to tilt the head Delia fought a wave of nausea.

His face was a wreck, one side seemed undamaged, ghostly white and leathery but the other was burned black and ruined, the skin having melted away in places. Dried blood made it hard to assess how serious the damage was but the right eye socket was a dark hole, empty of its expected contents. If smoke damage had reached the other eye, which was likely by the extent of the burns, he would be blind for sure but even if he was somehow lucky enough to keep his left eyes use he would be wearing an eye patch for the rest of his days, the right eye was gone forever.

His lips were black and curled downwards inches from where they should be. As Fatima dabbed at the cheek with a strip of wetted fabric a flash of white suggested the skin had gone completely here, his mandible was exposed.

Delia quickly scanned down the body now, braced for more bad news. Someone had attempted to cut the fabric away she saw but large swathes had seemingly fused to skin, his hand was dull red and dead looking laying limply on the edge of the mattress, one solitary finger hanging off by straining muscles at the first knuckle obscenely. 

Fatima poked the mans ribs and placed a stethoscope to his chest and heart while staring at the monitors cooly. Listening intently. Apparently satisfied with what he found he nodded to Delia grimly.

"He's low on the list nurse, damage to extremities in the main only it seems. Get him an oxygen mask for the smoke damage to his lungs; sounds like they'll give out soon and try to get as much of the clothes off before cleaning him as best you can; cover the lesser burns with the medi film, you'll find it in the cabinet beside the sluice."

"The finger sir?" Delia asked watching the ambulance driver take his leave away from them; off to collect more victims. From across the way Patsy and Fenton were restraining a man who's arm was completely destroyed, the bone all that was left where the skin had dissolved in the heat from the blast. A heavy set nurse was bringing over an amputation saw while Fenton fought to push analgesics into the screaming man. Delia watched Patsy draw a hasty line at his shoulder with a sharpie.

"Tape it up until we can sort him out properly, the nerve damage alone would suggest amputation but you never know. Its a shame we don't have enough surgeons for everything." And with that he left with a nod, already striding towards another bay where a man lay completey motionless; his legs were missing. 

Fatima halted at the edge of the bed, the EMT said a few words, shaking his head sorrowfully and the doctor checked his watch slowly. Time of death was recorded as 5:47Pm.

Delia looked back at her own patient who was twitching slightly, his lone eye closed. Delia stood for a moment noting his vitals as they beeped up on the monitors scren before wheeling about to collect what she needed. Returning with steralised wipes and a kidney bowl of water she placed it beside the bed before bending to slip the mask attached to the oxygen tank set behind the bed onto the mans face over his lips and mouth. By some miracle the lips hadn't fused together, perhaps he'd been screaming too much for that.

His right ear was blackened as well, the bottom lobe shrivelled. Delia pressed the cool compress to here first, trying to brush away the blood and charred flesh as gently as possible. The man groaned louder but remained unconscious, Delia hoped for his sake he continued in this state. Across the way the saw burred into life. The man Patsy worked on didn't scream. The main doors continued to swing open and closed for the next few hours. Chaos assumed its position.

After doing what she could for her patient; painstakingly slowly cutting around the fabric so that he could be stripped as well as possible, applying film to as many patches of burnt skin as was viable, taping the twisted finger up and washing out the remaining eye several times until the red of the veins could be seen, replacing endless bags of blood and fluids and trying to salvage what skin she could with burn cream the soldier and his bed were wheeled away for skin grafts and Gods alone knew what else. His breathing had grown more scratchy as the time ticked by and his oxygen levels were low. Who knew how bad the smoke inhalation had hurt his lungs in the long run. 

Delia was then called to never ending patch jobs. Broken legs and arms; sometimes both. First and second degree burns. Delia worked tirelessly, barely recognising surprise or distaste, there wasn't enough time for that.

When ten or so of the first operation survivors had been returned, medicated and stabilised Delia followed a few others to retrieve more supplies from the back room and helped to restock the shelves hurriedly. She spied Glen laying in a bay at the far end of the room. His throat bandaged up and sleeping the dreamless sleep of the severely drugged. He'd live they told her confidently. She only hoped they were right.

After several more hours of checking vital signs and three calls for the crash cart as the teams fought to keep the wounded alive a fresh faced EMT entered and began wheeling the wounded one by one outside . The chopper had arrived to return the most serious cases back to the airport, a plane was on the way to fly them to Britain. 

Delia watched numbly as the room emptied around her. She wasn't certain how many would survive the journey in their current condition but Fatima and Mawdesley along with five nurses would travel with them. Hopefully that would be enough. It had to be.

After they had gone with their bounty the room suddenly looked disgusting. Too late Delia could appreciate the need for the drain as she set about filling a bucket and retrieving a red headed mop. The floor sloshed nastily as she made a first trip of wiping as much filth down to the mouth of the drain as possible. The others were wiping down the mattresses, discarding soiled linen to plastic bags for boil washing.

After refilling her bucket with fresh water and unending a bottle of sanitised floor wash into it Delia began to clean the floor fully. An hour later and the stench of antiseptic was back, the room looked as though nothing had transpired although the staff looked haggard. Barbara was crying silently into Trixies neck. Patsy looked distant, her gaze turned inwards.

No one spoke to offer reassurance, they were nurses, this was their job, as more vitals were checked of the remaining occupants. Glen had remained in his place. Apparently he would not require repatriation, perhaps they thought he would be better soon. Delia needed to remember to enquire about the extent of his injuries, there'd been so much blood at the scene but perhaps it had looked worse than it had been. She fervently hoped so; wanting some good news.

Dr Turner was striding towards them, scrub cap still atop his head as he sighed towards them smiling tightly.

"Well done everyone. I think we all worked miracles today or this night as it now appears to be.' Delia followed his gaze to a clock on the wall and felt shocked to see it was midnight already. She hadn't been aware of time. 'For our newcomers I'm sorry to say you've had a baptism of fire this time around. To our long standing staff you were magnificent as ever, together we saved thirty lives in one way or another, you should all be pleased." What he did not say and what they all knew was that many more souls had not been saved. The mortuary would be full tonight.

"I suggest everyone who isn't on call take the opportunity to scout for food. We can run on a skeleton crew for tonight, we've worked on less before now. Then get some sleep; tomorrow is another day. You will be called in case of another emergency." He looked at them expectantly and they all roused themselves wearily, walking away to pick up weapons; everyone still poised to be called back, to be told another disaster had struck.

No such calls occured.

The night was icy cold as they stepped into it. The more hardened alumni broke into light chatter as they walked away from the main group in the direction of the food tent. Delia had little appetite right now; the adrenaline still making her feel wired and jumpy. It had always been the same; a great wave of energy and then an exhausting come down. Delias back ached from bending and her boots felt like lead weights on her feet. The others didn't look any better. Trixie patted Barbaras back, the youngest member of the group was shaking, her body shuddering against Trixie as she wept. Wordlessly Trixie left Delia and Patsy to lead the brunette back to the barracks. Delia wondered if Trixie dared to offer the girl a shot of spirits to calm her down. She hoped for both their sakes in the event of something else happening and them all being called to their post that they would abstain.

Patsy eyed Delia and flicked her head backwards towards a little alcove beside the front doors where a bench had been tucked away into the shadows. Cigarette butts littered the ground. Delia nodded gratefully, not wanting food or to follow the others to bed just yet.

Delia watched silently as Patsys lit up a fag and smoked it quickly. The red light of the cherry making the shadows of Patsys cheekbones longer somehow; an echo of a skull.

When Patsy discarded the first and lit a second Delia impulsively reached out and took the white cylinder from Patsys mouth. She'd never actually tried one of these things before; life was a fragile thing she thought to herself as Patsy watched her with confused eyes, best to try anything at least once.

Delia brought the butt to her lips and sucked experimentally. The acrid taste of burning filled her mouth and she coughed at the foreign feeling of the smoke in her throat. Well, there was a reason she'd never bothered before she thought tiredly. Patsy patted her on the back roughly as Delia spluttered and coughed, lips pressed together.

"Better?" Asked Patsy stifling a smirk.

"Wonderful, I feel like an ash tray now." Delia said coughing a few more times and passing back the cigarette quickly.

"Hmm, well, I've never wanted you more, I promise" Patsy said convivially, an edge of sincerity to the words making Delia straighten nervously.

"Some place this, isn't it?" Delia muttered, glancing about the dark fields visible far off over the edge of the compound walls.

"Trixie's already calling it the wet patch in the bed of the world." Patsy said wryly, rolling her eyes.

"She's a regular wordsmith." Delia replied sighing.

'She was tired when she said it, no doubt she'll have something better tomorrow." Patsy defended her friend bracingly. Delias shoulders slumped as she voiced her thoughts absentmindedly, relieved to feel the horrors ebb away slightly in light of their banter.

"Tomorrow... you know my mam didn't want me to come here, the whole R&R was a trainwreck, she was worried I'd be killed first day. I didn't think she had a point but then again I didn't think we'd be so vulnerable here." Delia shivered in the cold air and Patsy shifted closer as though offering body heat, her eyes kind.

"We'll be fine, we're all tough." She said boldly, inhaling a big toke on her cigarette.

"Not tough enough to withstand a bullet to the head if its coming our way." Delia replied feeling despondent as she thought about Glen sleeping in a hospital bed.

"Yes well...' Patsy flicked off a final trail of ash from the end of her cigarette, expelling a stream of blue smoke from her mouth. She paused awkwardly for a moment staring at the glowing tip of her cigarette as though considering it seriously before changing the subject pointedly. 'You were wonderful today you know, Glens going to live because you reacted so quickly." Delia sighed glumly and scuffed her heel on the hard packed earth disconsolately, feeling a little shy at the compliment;

"He'll live because of an army of medics and being hurt a hundred yards from a field hospital." She replied modestly.

"And you Delia.' Patsy was watching her keenly, 'I was so proud of you, you were always an amazing nurse, I'd forgotten what it felt like watching you in action, it was... interesting." Delia noticed Patsys eyes tracking her face and felt a swift kick in her stomach. It never really went away, all their crap, did it? Delia made a weak attempt at lightening the suddenly poignant atmosphere.

"You were just as good, I saw Urusula give you a nod. More to the point I'm almost certain I saw her checking out your arse when you were restocking the cupboards; think you're well in there." Patsy blinked, taken aback at the image of their hard faced superior viewing her in any way besides professional. 

"Tempting.' Patsy said straight faced before shifting in her seat to sit a little closer to Delia subtly. Delia still noticed. 'But I think I might choose other avenues before going there." Patsys answer was purposefully leading. Delia looked away again, not really sure it would help if she met those eyes for too long right now.

"That doctor then; Fenton.' Delia plucked a name from the back of her brain hurriedly, recalling the blonde in the midst of the chaos in the ward, 'She's definitely family, I got a strong vibe when she helped you intubate that Irish bloke. To avoid embarrassment though I'd throw out a few dummy questions for confirmation if I were you." Delia was hoping this shot at levity might help stop something that she could sense was bubbling from spilling over. She felt suddenly too hot despite the cool wind brushing their faces, Patsy was a warm point of heat less than a hands breadth away. Tempting.

"Fenton,' Patsy sucked her teeth as she made a show of considering the woman before shaking her head in mock regret, 'shes too tall for me, she'd be stealing my flats when we went out." This was too much, Delia laughed out loud, imagining Patsy sharing her clothes with someone. It had been bad enough trying to borrow a hoodie in their hay day, Patsy shared only as a last resort.

"When have you ever worn flats? I always felt like I was walking next to a giraffe when we went out." Patsy was grinning now listening to Delias laugh and opened her mouth in faux consternation.

"Charming. I don't know if I like being compared to a long necked Saharan mammal."

"What, so short necked ones are better?' Delia replied cheekily as Patsy pouted, 'And anyway, Giraffes have wonderful eye lashes so its a rather nice compliment if you think about." Patsys eyes were framed with dark lashes, her head was close enough Delia could see each seperate lash clearly.

"Do they flutter like a butterflies passage?" Patsy whispered, voice inexorably deepening as she brought her face closer a few inches as though to showcase her own. Delia brought her head back wanting breathing space and glanced about them trying to keep her voice light.

"Exactly right grasshopper, I can see Trixies not the only orieter in the group." Patsy was watching her with shrewd eyes, lips pressed together in amusement, not fooled by Delias would be causal movement at all.

"A quick tongue gets the girls.' Apparently wishing to demonstrate this organs proficiency Patsy flicked her own out several times quickly, Delia flushed, 'like flies on honey." Delia met her eyes fully, smiling despite herself at the not so subtle proposition.

"I take it back, I prefer Trixies phrases.' Delia said dryly. 'Anyway, I doubt you get the girls, you don't know the right questions to ask to track them down." Patsys head was tilted, giving Delia space as she played along.

"Questions like what, pray, oh wise one." Delias brain felt a little sluggish as she mulled over her answer. Patsy dropped her burnt out cigarette and ground it under her boot, her thigh somehow drawing nearer with the movement so that they were suddenly touching along one side tightly.

"Oh you know' Delia waved an expansive hand as inspiration struck, 'ask if she's got pets; cats are a must obviously. Ask about if she's big on cups of fruity tea and long walks on the beach; that sort of thing." Patsy smirked, twiddling her fingers.

"That's the criteria these days? Seems a tad generic." She commented, her voice far away. Her eyes were burning holes into the sides of Delias head as she drew closer again. Delia felt a little panicked, this was harder than it should be. Knee jerk reacting she continued on, her mouth running away with her as she felt Patsys little finger rub hers lightly.

"Oooh organised sports; thats a big one, Fenton doesn't strike me as a footie fan, hairs too long, maybe netball.' Delia looked at the wall chewing her bottom lip contemplatively, trying not to notice how her arms had broken out into goosebumps 'nothing like a cutie in a unisex primary coloured bib dribbling a ball- ooh or maybe badminton, very good for developing that vital elbow action." Patsy laughed in Delias ear making Delia shiver.

"I've never had a cat, or played in a team sports, will they take my card from me?" 

"How many bags of tea lights are under your sink at home?"Delia asked a little breathlessly, Patsy had turned over her hand and was drawing little circles on her palm distractingly.

"Ooh about four, Ikea really does a number on me." Delia nodded, not actually caring at all.

"Hmm, do you own your own drill or power tools?" She asked seriously. Fucking Nora Busby, who the hell cares, you've got a rock hard nurse Mount stroking your hand she shouted at herself from the safety of her head as Patsy replied jarringly seductive despite the banal subject matter, lips twitching as though she understood exactly what Delia was thinking.

"Even have a tool box; its got flowers on it though, Barbara bought it for me." Patsy hand had crept to Delias wrist, squeezing it.

"Toolbox gives you big points; flowers may drag you down. Are they at least butch looking flowers?" Delia asked, her own fingers curling around Patsys arm instinctively.

"I can draw moustaches on the daisys when I get back if it makes you feel any better..." Patsy whispered. Delia tried to smile but her face felt a little numb, Patsy was turning to her, their knees scraping together.

"You may continue practising your craft little one' Delia muttered weakly, 'but in penance make several washes without fabric softener. Mind you;' her hands froze as they brushed Patsys forearm, 'now I come to think about it, your entire wardrobe used to be plaid, is it still..." Patsy raised her eyebrows and lent unexpectedly to pull up the edge of her trousers, her breath wafting Delias leg as she flashed a sock poking from her boot cuff.

"I even bought plaid socks at Christmas." Delia blinked at the bright socks, heart melting slightly at the proud lilt in the red heads voice.

"That settles it then, there's no hope for you. You're gay." Delia said solemnly as Patsy came back up to eye level.

"I'm so happy to hear that Deel's." Patsy breathed roughly, her hand reaching up to stroke Delias shirt collar.

"Why's that Pats?" Delia asked as Patsys face pushed forward the final inch so that there lips were nearly touching.

"Because it means I can do this-" 

Patsy kissed Delia in a rush, her tongue sweeping inside the Welsh womans mouth knowledgeably. Delia sagged as she reached to grip the taller womans neck for support meaning to tug her away but completely failing to do so. She kissed back. She really couldn't have stopped herself if she tried.

Patsys lips were warm, the bottom lip so plump Delia wanted to pull it in between her own and bite it. Hands rubbed her back cajolingly as Patsy seemed to rise slightly. The kiss was fireworks. It made Delias mind implode. 

Sense prevailed as Patsy brought her hands down to Delias hips and she felt the arm of the bench poke between her shoulder blades as she was pushed back, fingers riding up the edge of her shirt to graze the skin there. 

This was ridiculous. Delia gasped and dragged her head back feeling hot and overwhelmed.

"We need to stop Pats-Jesus!" Delias words cut off as Patsy took the opportunity to bring down her lips to Delias exposed neck and was biting down on the soft flesh. Delias insides burned with longing. But no. 

Delia pushed Patsy away with flattened palms. Grudgingly, Patsy went with the movement although her eyes were dark and she breathed hard, staring at Delia in surprise.

"What's wrong?' Her hands crept up to twirl a strand of Delias hair around her finger, voice heavy. 'Why'd you stop." Delia felt her resolve weaken staring into Patsys blue eyes and looked at the floor.

"We can't Pats, its too complicated. It'll just cause more problems in the long run." Delias voice was small, her inner voice was trying to strangle her from inside, her throat felt tight.

"Problems.' Patsy sounded dismissive, pushing closer again to bump Delias nose with her own, 'I fail to see any problems right now besides the fact we've stopped." Delia tried to focus as Patsys hands fell back to her hips, her face resolute.

"Well I do' She dragged her thumb across the red heads cheek soothingly as she tried to disengage slightly, 'sweetheart, we cannot have sex and then just be normal tomorrow. At least' she added self consciously ducking her head, 'I can't. There's too much history, too much stuff. It would be a mistake."

"Well I disagree, the history just means we can skip the embarrassing getting to know you phase. Listen' she pressed a suppressing finger to Delias lip when she opened her mouth to answer exasperated. 'What if we tried a friends with benefits type of thing. This jobs going to be hard and what better way to deal with the tension with a little bit of casual fun. You know it makes sense, we used to be pretty awesome, we could help each other out." Delia rolled her eyes and pushed Patsys finger away.

"You're only saying this because of what's happened, it's adrenaline and it's making you make decisions without thinking them through. It would be a disaster in the making." 

"And if it is adrenaline so what.' Patsy replied, ignoring Delias last statement mulishly, 'There's going to be a hell of a lot more where that came from so we might as well seize the moment when its available." Patsy said clearly, confidence dripping from each word as she crowded Delia, pushing her hips closer. Delia shivered but didn't waver. She'd let this woman break her heart before; she wouldn't put herself in that position again.

"But it's not available. Not with me Pats. Answer me honestly; could you seriously have a no strings relationship with me?"

"Yes, yes I could; very easily." Delia felt her heart clench, the hasty words hurting more than they should. Patsy was still holding her like she had no intention of letting go. Delia shook her head; she couldn't just be a casual hook up with this woman. It was all or nothing and it seemed nothing was the only option available from Patsy. Gently, she pried her body away, taking a few steps back once she was on her feet so that the cold wind whipped at her face painfully, bringing blood to the surface of her skin.

"Well I couldn't, so it's not happening.' She offered a weak smile as Patsy slumped against the bench looking defeated. 'Still friends though right?" Delia asked hesitantly, embarrassed by how concerned she was that she'd suddenly ruined everything. Patsy wiped hair from her face distractedly as she blew out a gust of breath shakily.

"Friends? Yes of course, I'm always going to be that Delia, I just thought..." She tailed off looking wistful. Delia smiled grimly and rocked on her heels, her body screaming to just run back to the woman and give in. 

"I'm going to go to bed, this days been..." Delias voice trailed away awkwardly.

"Yeah. Night Deels." Patsy answered quietly. Delia made to turn away but halted when Patsy called her name softly.

"Deels... I'm serious about what I offered, think about it." Delia inhaled through her nose, trying not to lose her nerve as she appraised Patsy from her place on the bench. Not really sure what to say Delia nodded non committally and turned her back on the inviting image.

Delia walked away slowly feeling eyes watching her leave and scorching the skin of her back through her jacket.

She got into bed immediately on entering the womens barracks. Luckily, no one accosted her on the way; Barbara was already sleeping, Trixie was drinking from a mug of tea looking miserable as she flicked a thumb nail to the neck of an unopened bottle of gin longingly. Shelagh was standing by the doorway of the tent, chatting quietly to Dr Turner who for some reason had seen fit to walk the scot back to her digs. 

Delia dropped her outer clothes quickly, keeping her under top and knickers on; she'd change them tomorrow even if she felt disgusting and dragged the covers over her head, hiding her face from view.

She lay very still under the bed clothes, breathing steadily as she considered events and questioned every decision she'd just made regretfully.

Patsy did not come to bed for a long time afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! You have no idea how hard it is not to just let them get all this angst over with. Genuinely have two chaot of smut written for down the line lol.
> 
> Ahh well Patience is a virtue. thank you to everyone whos enquired about the fam; mother in laws doing very well, she's strong enough to try and lift a fish tank (dont worry we told her off when we found out the crazy fool) and the nephew perked up really well and even managed to take his first steps(!) proud aunty moment.
> 
> Hope everyones enjoying the sunshine
> 
> SB


	19. Pardoned his spilling mess-tins in our hand.

The next few weeks were a jumble of highs and lows.

Delia had quickly settled into the long shifts; the comfortable 14 hour stretches were taken easily enough given that nothing too challenging to cope with happened in them. Their first day had thankfully been a true baptism of fire and made all other injuries seem rather pale in comparison. 

Their main fodder was field wounds for the most part. Very quickly it became apparent that the majority of the troops were moved around from place to place in an attempt to maintain a military presence in important spots outside of Debrecen. These smaller outposts were manned for long periods in large complicated rotations and appeared to be where most of the real action occurred.

On their first week the camps inhabitants changed abruptly and the newer groups were suddenly replaced by raucous seasoned soldiers who'd spent a month sat on a hill top a hundred miles away freezing their arses off who all had an eye for fixing a few hungers while in safer territories.

Delia had given up trying to walk anywhere unimpeded by some cat call or invitation to inspect the mens barracks ceiling from a variety of vantage points. She wasn't the only one; Barbara had been reduced to tears by one especially keen lad and Trixie had been forced to deal with him sharply.

The bubbling atmosphere was everywhere you went, too many testosterone filled men who wanted to forget what had happened wherever they'd been and not enough women to accommodate the demand. In response there had been one or two 'little incidents'. To Delias surprise Debrecen still had a few brothels tucked away and more than one soldier had 'gone roaming' for a few hours only to return looking a little too relaxed.

This sideshow might have been ignored had it not been for a break out in chlamydia among some of the dumber men. Dr Turner had handed out anti malaria tablets in a bid to stem the tide of cross eyes soldiers and the nurses had revenged themselves on the men by running several groups on sexual health. Delia in particular found watching a blushing man child having to put a condom on a banana in front of his friends immeasurably satisfying.

It was something Patsy would have made several witty comments about had Patsy been talking to Delia. Which apparently was not the case any longer.

Delia had woken up the second day on camp feeling embarrassed and a little nervous about facing the red head. Her fear about how the snogging incident would make their interactions awkward were wildly disproportionate to Patsys reaction. Delias subtle attempt to strike up a conversation as they'd all walked to breakfast had been met by stoney silence and a quick retreat as Patsy had sped up to walk next to Trixie. Delia, at first, had hoped the moment would pass as the general bustle of camp hit them but was dissapointed to be proved wrong over the next few weeks. Patsy had been treating her with silence at the best of times and downright ignorance at worst. 

Delia had tried a few times to broker a peace talk but Patsy had chosen to ignore these too. Her attitude bordering on offensive whenever Delia was in earshot. Even Barbara had muttered darkly that she seemed like a stranger to anyone near by at times; her eyes looking inward. 

A more positive element was the discovery a few days into their placement that Chummy and a few other admin bods were also billeted with the nurses. It had been cheering when Delia had entered the tent, alone after a rather tense shift working on a man who'd lost all major limbs with a stubbornly monosyllabic Patsy, to find the lanky secretary sitting on Delias bed waiting with a care package from Mrs Busby in her hands. Delia had nearly kissed her. Having Chummy around meant Delia had a buffer between her and Patsy during meal times. 

A less welcome addition to the group also made her appearance around the same time as Chummy. Dr Turner had decided, through his own inimitable reasoning, to sit with the nurses for their after shift meal and spent the majority of this time chatting animatedly to Shelagh. Delia didn't mind him too much, he was a sweet and conscientious man. Who Delia could have done without though was Dr Fenton who had taken it upon herself to tag along with Turner.

Delia regretted her flippant jokes with Patsy on their first night now more and more because she had a horrible suspicion she might have been right about the doctor. The blonde was irritatingly ingratiating when it came to Patsy; always miraculously at hand to offer praise or compliments at random moments. Delia wasn't the only one to notice this either. More than a few times a few calls of 'teachers pet' had been sniggered as Fenton took a seat beside Patsy at the dinner table by an irritated looking Trixie who seemed to dislike the blonde as much as Delia did.

In between worrying about Patsy and running around like an idiot in the hospital Delia was still expected to continue regular PT on camp and had to endure long courses in full gear around cramped tents to ensure she still remained A1 fit.

Christmas day passed by the camp relatively unmarked upon or noted bar a few hastily thrown around santa hats for public photographs at home and precariously positioned mistletoe sprigs that seemed to have been placed outside all the doors by a gang of hopeful squaddies at the end of shift.

The only place where anyone could fully relax was the naffi house. It was a small tent set near the back where films were screened, bands played (badly at times it had to be said) and low key parties happened. It was also a complete den of iniquity at times; only the faint hearted walked around the back at the end of an evening. Delia fervently hoped something about her safe sex lectures had stuck in some of the mens minds.

It was around three weeks into the placement and a particularly difficult day of dealing with a chopper that had been brought down near the border. Mercifully the craft had already dropped off its cargo of some thirty soldiers but the crew had been aboard still. Only one had made it.

Everyone had wordlessly agreed that a night of crap music and soft drinks were a necessity and they'd managed to steal a table near the roughly put together 'stage'. Delia was beside Chummy as they all watched a few would be popstars, still in their uniforms, clamber onto the boards and begin fiddling with instruments casually.

Delia was sipping a flat coca cola as she snuck depressed glances down the table to watch Fenton speaking animatedly to Patsy. For once Patsy was looking a little less morose and bobbing her head as she listened politely to the blonde. Delia clenched her drink tightly when Fenton flicked a stray hair from Patsys collar. Was it her imagination or did Patsy look a little smug Delia wondered to herself as she considered how much trouble she'd be in if she threw the can at the doctor. She'd been known for her aim as a kid. With Fentons massive head it wouldn't even be like she'd need to try very hard she thought dispassionately.

She gritted her teeth as Patsy said something to make Fenton laugh. The unwelcome noise was irritatingly loud and similar to a bray, Delia grimaced as she feigned interest in the band when they began to count themselves in. There were appreciative shouts from others in the room as the opening chords of 'don't go breaking my heart' struck up and a dark skinned bloke started singing. He wasn't bad either Delia thought.

One by one the table emptied as a few of the other patrons offered some of the girls a dance. Trixie had agreed surprisingly quickly this evening and was currently cutting a very fast paced jig number with a man who used to be a dentist. Barbara and Chummy were trying to start up an impromptu conga line despite the now bluesy style music being sung. Turner and Shelagh were sitting very close, heads together as they chatted about something intently. Patsy had gone to get more drinks and had left Fenton with Delia. 

The atmosphere at the table was like tar. Fenton was eying Delia speculatively as Delia tried to keep her face turned away watching Chummy bob her shoulders encouragingly to a confused looking private who quite possibly was young enough to never have done a conga line in his life. 

Delias fake concentration was broken when she sensed Fenton stand up. Turning her head she watched as the woman walked towards the door where one of the other nurses still on shift was waving at her hurriedly. The blonde dissappeared from view and to Delias delight did not return.

After fifteen minutes Patsy returned to the table and deposited a tray piled high with sloshing glasses onto the table. Delia caught her eye as she peered about for everyone, her gaze scanning the crowded tent clearly looking for the doctor. 

"She's gone back to the hospital I think, someone came to get her,' Delia said loudly over the clamour around them, not needing to say who 'she' was. Patsy nodded but continued to look around the room avoiding Delias face.

"Right." She answered shortly looking a bit put out as she began pulling drinks towards peoples alloted seats.

"It didn't look serious though, or we'd all have been called in." Delia went on, perversely wanting to force the conversation, to force Patsy to look at her.

"That's good then." Patsy replied still appearing absorbed by the drinks. Delia frowned as she felt something snap. Standing up quickly Delia rounded the table and stood an inch or so from Patsy who spared her only a fleeting look before apparently choosing to ignore her again. This was until Delia reached out to grip a handful of Patsys jacket material in a fist making her look up sharply. 

"Right, I think its time we had a conversation about this. You and me, outside, now." Delia commanded in a muted hiss. Patsy placed down the drink and finally looked over at Delia with a raised eyebrow but to Delias surprise she followed Delia out the tent without argument and the two of them walked silently past noisy routes until they stopped outside an empty storage bunk. 

Wordlessly Delia held open the flap of the door and pointed a finger through it. Patsy marched stiffly inside looking as though she was being put to great trouble right now. Delia gritted her teeth and followed the woman, letting the door close jerkily behind her.

Large crates were piled up to the roof around them and Patsy was already leaning against a stack, arms crossed tightly over her chest looking tense as Delia glared at her. 

"Right,' began Delia bringing herself to stand a few steps away from Patsy and taking a deep breath, 'this isn't on anymore Pats, I know I upset you when I turned you down but ignoring me and treating me like I don't exist isn't fair. You need to stop." Patsy was biting her lip and looking a little sheepish but none the less remained defiant.

"I wasn't ignoring you, I just gave you what you wanted. You didn't want me around so I got out of the way." She answered blithely, her jaw setting stubbornly. Delia shook her head irritably.

"Thats not what I said, I said we couldn't sleep together Patsy, I didn't say ignore me like I pissed on your bonfire. I'm sick of trying to talk to you and being treated like a pariah; its humiliating." Patsy bristled at the admonishment looking bitter.

"You said it was a mistake so I'm leaving you alone; wouldn't want to inflict my company on you when its not welcome."

"No, you'd rather spend it with someone else I've noticed." Delia shot out unable to stop herself. Patsy frowned in apparent confusion, which made Delia bounce on the balls of her feet.

"Who?" She sounded too confused, there was no way she didn't know exactly what Delia was getting at.

"Fenton; I thought you said she was too tall." Delia answered exasperated, the sting of the situation making her lips thin.

'I don't know what you mean." Patsy said calmly. Smirking.

"Oh don't insult my intelligence. What are you doing?" Delia growled, her accent thickening in annoyance so that the words came out a little more spaced out than usual.

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about Delia." Patsys voice rang with innocence, Delia wanted to slap her in the mouth.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about; a few weeks ago you were feeling me up and offering a quick no strings deal for the road. What's this then; moving on to pastures new already?" Delia fumed as Patsys mouth set in a hard line, glaring at Delia, all pretence of levity lost in a heartbeat.

"So what if I am, I thought you didn't care. Why, are you jealous?" Patsy was taunting her, Delia was beyond enraged.

"No. You're free to do what you want, I would have just thought you would show me a little bit of respect when picking a bit of fluff up in front of me. I wouldn't do that to you Pats." Delia couldn't believe she had to say any of this; Patsy would have been a nightmare had their roles been reversed. Before her Patsy stiffened at Delias words clearly affronted.

"Well maybe I will pick her up then, maybe I'll give her a right fucking seeing to because she at least doesn't dismiss me as a flake or fuck up." Delia shook her head exasperated at her words thrown back in her face.

"Patsy you're being ridiculous I never said that I just sa-" Delia was cut off as Patsy exploded.

"You said, Delia Ann Busby, that we were a mistake! That the thought of sleeping with me was a torture you couldn't possibly endure." Delia felt a faint pang of remorse at her actions, clearly Patsy had not dealt well with rejection.

"That's not what I said at all! You're taking it completely out of cont-" But again Delias words were foreshortened as Patsy continued on as though Delia hadn't spoken.

"You drop me like a sack of shit when my sister dies, you swan back in without an apology wanting to be,' Patsy bent her fingers in the air to mime quotation marks, 'friends." Delia cringed at the derision in Patsys voice and tried again to stop the fight.

"Patsy I did apologise for that and you accepted; you're being-" Patsy seemed to be on a roll; some hidden door had been opened and everything she'd been holding on to was being released in rush.

"Then you practically jump my bones in a tent. And a public toilet."

"You were part of both of those times and we both agreed-" Delia defended to ears that were not listening.

"I don't care what we agreed! I don't care about any of it! You don't get to pull me up on crap behaviour because quite frankly pot you're just as black as I am and if I want to fuck everything that moves I damn well will and if you want to matyr yourself and watch me do it then be my guest. Bet you'd love it, watching me hanging out the back of Fenton, then you could really have a reason to tell me I'm not good enough." Patsy was panting, her chest rising and falling like a bobbing glacier. Delia felt her stubborn streak flair in the face of so much rage and her voice, when she spoke, was icy cold.

"You're being a child because I turned you down. Quite frankly, if I knew you were going to be this much of a tool maybe I should have let you fuck me. At least then I could have a more satisfying reason to punch you in the face." Patsy huffed as she lent a hand on her hip.

"Oh, but I forgot, perfect Nurse Busby never makes a mistake do you? You never feel anything that's not easy, you're just kind and understanding in every possible way aren't you. Endlessly reasonable and well thought out. Except for the fact that I know you're seething with jealousy right now so badly you want to rip Fentons face off. Not my fault if you missed your chance is it, maybe Fenton doesn't think I'm a mistake." Delia grasped her hair in frustration, she hadn't meant it like that.

"I didn't mean I thought you were a mistake! Patsy, I was trying to stop this, exactly this in fact, from happening. I didn't want to start a fight I wanted to stop one and you're not being fair." Patsy flicked back her head angrily and stomped her foot on the ground with a dull thud.

"I don't want to be fair any more! I want you to stop lying to me and pretending that you're not interested because I know for a fact you are." Delia inflated where she stood, frustrated beyond belief at Patsys efforts to bait her.

"That's not the point Patsy. The point is that sex is not going to help our friendship. Sex will just complicate it and we're complicated enough without adding another thing on top of everything else." Patsy tutted against her teeth angrily.

"I agree, so why are you grilling me about Fenton? I'm a free agent and you don't want me, so what's your problem?"

"I-' damnit, Patsy actually had a point which was annoying. Delia longed to wipe the arrogant look from the red heads face. 'I just don't want to see it happen in front of me, that's all." Delia replied lamely.

"Okay, fine...' There was a note of challenge in Patsys voice that made Delias back straighten tensely, 'So I'll take her back to the doctors billets then and I'll bend her over the bed frame and make her scream my name, I'll fuck her so deep, so hard she'll be walking like John Wayne tomorrow morning. But don't worry I'll make sure to do it where you won't have to see and that'll make you satisfied will it?'

Delias throat felt dry; the image was horrendous in her head, she hated the thought of Patsy touching anyone. It was repulsive and Patsy knew it. She was doing it on purpose for a reaction and apparently she wasn't done yet; 'And after that, for good measure she can do me, she can go for glory. I'll just bust a load with the good doctor. God knows she's got to be good at it; knowing all that anatomy, she'll probably have me writhing and grinding and I'll do it all because rest assured no one else is going to are they Delia?" Delia felt sick, she wanted to cry or strike Patsy for doing this to her, to them.

"Well I hope you enjoy yourself." She said eventually, forcing her voice to stay calm. Patsy glared at Delia for a moment before laughing harshly, waving her hands in the air in despair.

"You are so full of shit; you're jealous of the thought. You want it to be you in that fantasy, you're just too proud to admit it." There was an edge of desperation in Patsys voice. The sound calmed Delia somewhat. She hoped Patsy regretted what she'd said even if she wouldn't apologise. 

"What I want Patience is not to have this conversation any more. What I want is for you to be a rational human being and stop punishing me for a decision I made to protect both of us." Delia stated calmly watching Patsy as she stepped from foot to foot restlessly.

"Well I'm a big girl Delia, I don't need protection." Patsy bit back sarcastically.

"No. I can see that Pats, clearly I made a mistake. I won't bother again." Delia answered dismissively, thinking that now would be a good time to leave before this went any further. As she took a step forward though she was stopped when Patsy threw out a restraining arm and tugged Delia back to face her looking as though she might burst into tears at any moment.

"I wasn't a mistake! We were fucking perfect and you're just too stubborn to admit it!" Delia pulled her hand away feeling torn. Patsy was always the emotional one, Delia couldn't help but want to comfort her.

"Yes, we were; because it was a relationship Patsy, not some sordid little fuck buddy system that's apparently become your calling card since that time." She said tartly, barely stopping herself from saying; just ask me for something more substantial you idiot!

"Admit you want me too, just admit it." Patsy said belligerently, staring at Delia.

"Right now I want to shoot you." Muttered Delia truthfully.

"But you do want me, you still would if your pathetic need for self loathing didn't hold you back." Patsy snapped, anger still bubbling in her body like a storm cloud.

"I am not self loathing', Delia defended irritably, 'I just respect myself too much to jump into bed with you because you're horny and think I'll be an easy lay." Patsy choked back a bitter laugh as she shook her head.

"When have you ever been an easy lay? You're making me sound like a predator." Delia felt her chest tighten as she stared at this stupidly sensitive woman in despair. It must be because her mum died so young she thought tiredly. Patsy had never dealt with emotions well; either they didn't happen or they occurred all at once.

"So you're telling me you didn't try me out for size and when I turned you down you just moved on to the next girl; its hardly Romeo and Juliet is it Pats." Patsy sighed and rubbed her arms distractedly, more weary now thankfully than firey.

"Well what was I supposed to do Delia? Wait around for you to decide I was worth a go, what do you want me to do?" More questions Delia didn't really know how to answer. Well done Pats.

"I don't know, I just didn't think that you'd start trying to shag the bloody doctor." Delia admitted grudgingly. Patsy bit her lip childishly and looked at Delia with eyes too knowing.

"But I don't want to shag Fenton, if you hadn't been so bloody self-righteous I'd be fucking you right now but you don't want me to or so you say." Delia groaned, she wanted to bang her head against a wall.

"I didn't say that, I just said it would be an error of judgement on our part to not consider what would happen if we did it. Sex causes emotions, emotions equal God knows what when you're involved Patience. I don't want to make this hard for us because contrary to what you feel, clearly, I actually wanted to have you in my life again, I missed you as a person not just your vagina." Patsy was staring at Delia, eyes flashing as she stepped forward into Delias space.

"Just admit you want me as much as I want you. Admit you went to bed sopping wet and desperate for me that night we kissed. Admit you've thought about it, that you've thought about me inside you more than a little." Delia felt her chest tighten as she Patsy bumped against her, challenging her to keep calm.

"Pats thats not fair..." She warned weakly.

"Admit you're five seconds from jumping me right now, don't you dare try to lie to me and tell me you're not dying for me to touch you because we both know it's the truth.' Delia couldn't breathe, Patsy was staring into her face and smiling grimly. 'You're not the only one with memories, I know when you're desperate for it too remember.' She brought her head forward to breath the parting shot in Delias ear quietly; 'angry to aroused was always my favourite, it meant you were going to go all night just to prove a point." Delia gasped, her knees suddenly seemed to be made of jelly. Fuck Patience Mount and fuck this.

"Right, I'm going back out there and you do whatever you want to do. You're right; it's none of business, forget I bothered."

"So you're telling me to go and sleep with Fenton; just so we're clear." 

"I just said didn't I? Do what you want sweetheart." Delia made certain she was as dismissive as possible as she walked away purposefully, her feet eating up the ground as she fled. From behind her she heard a deafening crack; Patsy had kicked a tent pole by the sounds of it, she felt the ceiling sag slightly without one of its supports.

Walking through the doors, head held high the effect was rather ruined as Delia barged into someone. A bony jaw grazed the top of her head making the scalp burn painfully as an elbow hit her windpipe and winded her.

"Sorry-' Delia wheezed in true British fashion despite the ache in her throat before she realised who her assailant was. 'Oh it's you sergeant, I'm sorry I didn't see you there." Sergeant Urusula was rubbing her chest where Delias shoulder had bumped in her haste to get away. The older woman waved an expressionless hand as though discarding the apology to the winds.

"Never mind, never mind, I'm looking for you and Mount anyway so no harm done. Nurse Franklin said she saw you walking away together, I thought I heard raised voices; not fighting I hope." Patsy had seemingly heard the NCO's voice and her head poked through the canvas doors, her face unhelpfully guilty as she took in the two others standing in the pale evening light.

"We were practising a scene from a play, Patsys really into her am-dram back home, she wanted my help to keep her hand in?" Delia said, inventing madly.

"A play?' Urusula for once looked interested and Delias heart sank, please God do not ask to join in Delia pleaded in her head trying to remember anything she could about a play. 'Indeed, I did a little bit of that myself in my younger years, which play was it?" Delia sensed Patsy freezing behind her back, floundering for an answer. Suddenly not all mouth Miss Mount when it would be welcome Delia thought sourly.

"Oh one of Patsys favourites. Taming of the shrew; she plays a mean Kate." Delia felt Patsy shoot her a Look but ignored it. Urusla looked intrigued for a breath before pulling herself back to business pompously.

"Well, very good ladies, although perhaps you could practice a little quieter in future. We are in a war zone after all." Urusula chided lightly.

"Yes sergeant." They both agreed fervently. Patsy had finally stepped out of the tent to stand beside Delia.

"The reason I was looking for you both is because you're wanted for an important mission and you two are the best we have." Patsy and Delia shared an inquisitive glance, non plussed.

"What do you need Sergeant?" Patsy asked politely.

"I need you two to get your bags together, you're being seconded to an outpost medical role. They're taking a beating and we need better stabilisation before troops are moved in the field. You two deal with immediate trauma better than the others, you'll keep a cool head in the event of a fire fight; you leave in three hours.' Urusula was looking to Patsy and Delia and back to Patsy again looking perplexed at their obvious lack of pleasure. She looked as though they were turning their noses up to a great treat. 'Is there a problem ladies?"

Delia felt horrified and couldn't quite muster energy to lie about it. Just Patsy and her in some tiny camp with a bunch of squaddies... She glanced to her side and saw that Patsy looked just as shocked; her mouth actually hanging open. Urusula was tapping her toe impatiently and Delia decided to answer for both of them to stop a lecture that she could sense growing in their horizon.

"No sergeant, no problems, it's just a bit of a surprise thats all. We thought the outposts were fine because of their close proximity." Urusula nodded deferentially to the response and sighed.

"And so that was the case but as of twenty four hours ago a strike team cleared out a Russian occupied camp close to the border; if we can funnel troops into the region then we will be able to push forward in greater numbers but naturally the position is precarious and casualties are expected. The Russians appear to have anticipated the attack and have booby trapped several routes into the camp and more than likely other yet identified areas; immediate response is imperative and they'll need the best. As I cannot leave the group you two are the next thing to me.' She stared at them hard for a moment before smacking her palms together with an air that said she'd spoken everything that needed to be spoken about anything anyone could possibly need to know ever. Delia flinched. 'Now, I suggest you pack and prepare ladies, it'll be a difficult flight in the chinook." Delia flushed and eyed Patsy fretfully.

"How long will we be there sergeant?" Delia asked hurriedly as the woman began to turn away. Urusula froze, cocking her head absentmindedly as she mulled over the answer.

"As long as is needed private.' She answered coldly, 'You are soldiers and you will go where you're sent." And with that ringing statement the old baggage walked away. Patsy and Delia were left to stand around foolishly staring after her.

After a few awkward minutes they both turned to face each other; the anger draining away in their shared concerns for their immediate future.

"An outpost" Delia said disbelievingly, not quite certain the past few minutes had happened. Patsy looked equally disturbed as she blinked over at her.

"You know Delia, I'm starting to wonder why they don't just dip us in honey and throw us to the bears, it'll save time and clean up at least." Muttered Patsy in an attempt at levity as she patted her pockets for her usual packet of cigarettes absentmindedly. Delia felt her lips twitch slightly but made no comment in regards to the mental image of Patsy covered in honey; they did not need to segway back into dangerous territory.

"So, I suppose we really do have to pack?" Delia asked softly, almost wanting Patsy to tell her she had got the wrong end of the stick somehow. Patsy sighed and lit her cigarette hastily taking a long, contemplative drag before replying quietly.

"Looks like it, you'd better get going Deels, packing takes you ages." Delia looked at her searchingly, heart sinking as she noticed the cold set to Patsys eyes.

"You're not coming with me?" She queried, already knowing the answer.

"I don't need an escort and old sarge said three hours, I've got a few things to fit in between now and then so I'll meet you at the chopper." Patsy said, still sucking on her cigarette.

"Things? You mean Fenton?" Delia asked bitterly. Patsy fixed her with a blank stare.

"Maybe, not really your business though." Delia breathed in deeply, stifling the tears she could feel brewing.

"Fine. I'll see you later then." Delia bit out harshly and turned on her heel. Walking away for the second time.

She made it to the billets, deserted as they were because everyone else was at the party still before she broke down. She hated Patsy! She hated her so much! She was stubborn and childish and ridiculous. Delia felt as though Patsy was physically under her skin, her face and smell crawling about her nervous system. It wasn't fair. If she would just sit down and talk about things without resorting to sex as a get out clause. Delia wouldn't have refused if she hadn't been so bloody casual about the whole thing and what did it matter anyway? To Patsy Delia was just a notch on her bedpost; as important as Fenton or Gods only knew how many others. Delia felt dirty and frustrated and more than a little bit heart broken by it all and somehow, somehow, somehow she was the one who'd wronged Patsy in all of this. It wasn't on.

She sniffled pathetically, trying to master herself as she crammed her meager posessions into her bergen, not caring if it all creased. Angrily she kicked Patsys own empty bergen under her bed where it flopped beneath the cot as she walked around her space grabbing shirts and boots.

Where was Patsy anyway? What the fuck was she doing? Surely she wasn't really going to try and pull Fenton after what had just happened, after everything she'd just said to Delia. Was she just trying to make Delia jealous and if so why was Delia even bothering to waste brain space on someone with the emotional range of a cabbage plant? How dare Patsy say any of it anyway! How dare she push and push like that! Times like these made Delia hate being gay; men would have been such an easier option and would probably- She stopped short still holding a pair of boots in her hand, thinking about this last thought a little... well maybe not, but still; screw Patsy. 

Delia was just about finished when Chummy bustled in looking a little flushed as she took in Delia sitting beside her bergen miserably.

"I say; you look long faced old thing. What's happened?" Delia tried to smile but failed to do so as Chummy crossed the room and stared at Delia expectantly. 'I saw you and Patsy going for a walk, have you had another argument?" Chummy asked kindly, Delias chin wobbled.

"Another argument... What do you mean?" Delia said feeling her voice crack.

"Oh I'm sorry I know it's terribly bad form to bring up old wounds but I noticed you two were a bit off with one another in Pirbright. Barbara said you had quite the falling out a few years ago so I just assumed you wouldn't want to talk about it." To her horror Delia felt tears dribble down her cheeks. A falling out, was that what five years of silence boiled down to? Patsy shagging Fenton; was that a falling out too? She felt Chummys hand fall to her back and start rubbing reassuring circles as Delia broke down. 

"Whats happened Delia? I've not seen you like this before, has Patsy-"

"I don't want to talk about Patsy bloody Mount Chummy, I've had it up to here with the woman this evening and I've got to spend however long with her in some camp near the border so I really wouldn't mind a Patsy free moment if it's all the same to you." Chummy looked faintly hurt by Delias sharp words but quickly seemed overcome by curiosity over Delias other point.

"What camp near the border? They're moving you out?" Delia nodded solemnly and quickly recounted her short conversation with Urusula. When she'd finished Chummy sat open mouthed and gawping.

"But Delia... that sounds awfully like a suicide mission, won't it be frightfully dangerous." Chummy asked unnecessarily, allowing Delias nerves to ratchet up a few more notches.

"Yes it does a bit doesn't it.' She replied witheringly before feeling slightly ashamed at herself for being prickly with her friend. It wasn't Chummys fault Delia was close to melt down and added in more positive tones, 'but I'm sure we'll pull through, we're pretty smart when we need to be." Chummy grinned uncertainly and sucked her teeth as she looked at her friend carefully. 

"And you'll have Patsy with you." Chummy said confidently as though this was a great bright spot. Delia sighed and nudged her wardrobe with her boot despondently.

"I doubt that she'll want to help me. She hates me a bit right now." Delia admitted bitterly, feeling a great ball of cement crush her insides. Chummy frowned at Delia.

"Hates you; Delia you're being ridiculous. I always think the way she looks at you sometimes borders on the overly affectionate at times.' Chummy paused as though weighing up whether to go on before doing so, 'in fact sometimes I've seen her watching you and its like you're the sun, I've wondered if she might want to be a little more than friends with you." Chummy said delicately without a hint of judgement in her voice. Delia surveyed her carefully before smiling weakly.

"Yes... well, we were a few years ago. More than friends I mean. But its done and forgotten, she doesn't want that sort of relationship I promise you." Delia looked back to the floor wretchedly not adding; I mean she wants to sleep with me she just doesn't want to be anything else which sucks because I'm still head over heels emotionally involved with a child in an adults body. 

Chummy was chewing her thumb nail as she processed this admission carefully.

"I think you're wrong you know; about her not wanting that, she clearly has feelings for you still and so do you. I mean look at you, you're miserable because you've had an argument."

"I'm miserable because she's an idiot." Huffed Delia feeling nettled. Chummy shook her head looking indulgent.

"Delia, would you be this upset if you'd argued with anyone else?" She asked delicately. Delia sighed and rubbed her fingers on her thighs.

"I wouldn't have had this argument with anyone else." She admitted tiredly. Anyone else would have been sent packing straight off if they'd pushed like that. Chummy seemed to read her mind.

"Maybe being at this outpost might give you both the chance to talk things through." Delia rolled her eyes at her friends optimism.

"Or we'll kill each other." She answered only half joking. Chummy looked disquieted and Delia sighed, patting her hand reassuringly.

"Ignore me, I'm just feeling a bit on edge right now. You're right I'm sure it'll be fine". Delia said bracingly feeling as though her nose should be growing as she spoke.

Chummy wisely changed the subject at this point and Delia gratefully allowed it. The two of them spent fifteen minutes trying to envision the outpost and gossiped about Shelagh and Turner. Chummy seemed to think there was something going on but Delia shrugged; maybe they were but she didn't really want to wonder about something they clearly weren't wanting to go public with.

After another ten minutes the tent opened up and a distinctly ruffled Trixie walked into the room looking about her. Her mouth set into a firm line as she took in her two colleagues sat on Delias bed.

"There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere.' she called loudly, looking at Delia determinately. Quickly glancing at Chummy Trixie asked in a tight voice, 'I've just been talking to Patsy, Chummy would you mind if I had a word with Delia on my own for a mome?" it didn't really sound like a question to Delia who was watching Trixie warily. Chummy glanced at Delia questioningly, Trixie looked a mix of barely controlled agitation and anger, Delia nodded lightly to tell her friend it was fine and Chummy left shooting Trixie what looked a little too much like a warning glance as she walked away.

Once they were both completely alone Trixie retrieved her packet of cigarettes and waved them questioningly towards Delia.

"I don't smoke." Delia said tightly and Trixie snorted irritably.

"You smoked one of Patsys the other day." She accused bluntly and Delia sighed knowing that this was going to be awkward. Patsy had evidently spilled.

"That was a one off Trixie, first day and all that." Trixie inhaled speculatively.

"And kissing her, was that a one off too?" She asked without heat. Delia blushed.

"Apparently so." She replied tightly. Trixie rolled her eyes.

"You two are the biggest pair of idiots I've ever met did you know that?' Trixie said conversationally, tipping ash onto the floor, 'I've just had Patsy crying on my shoulder because you don't care about her and by the state of your face you've been doing much the same. Don't you think this is all a bit tweeny Delia. Personally I'm about one more incident from locking you two in the sluice until you talk things through and sort it out." Delia crossed her arms defensively, not liking being spoken to like a naughty school girl.

"I tried to talk to her Trixie, she's impossible." Trixie snorted again, rolling her eyes.

"You're as bad as each other Delia. Patsys my friend and when you finally do get your shit together I will happily give you the 'if you hurt my friend' lecture but in order to do that it seems I'm needed to give the push neither of you are prepared to do.' She paused as though ordering her thoughts for a moment. 'Cards on the table time now; when you left she imploded, lived in dirty tracksuit bottoms and the same stupid pajama top you left for weeks. Survived on ice cream and take out, nearly lost her pin because she couldn't concentrate and nearly double dosed an epileptic when she didn't read a chart properly. She thinks I don't know but she's still got that top too. Took about a year before she seemed on track again but she's never had another long relationship since and the girls she sleeps around with, well, they're all short brunettes. Quite frankly, it's pathetic to watch but you know Patsy, she won't be told.

You broke her heart so if she's a pain then that's all yours to deal with. But please Delia, you need to sort this out. The woman has it bad and its exhausting pretending I don't know." Delia stared at Trixie completely winded, her mind caving in. She'd kept the top... Delia had just assumed she'd lost it in the move. She'd kept the stuff Delia had left...

Trixie was eyeing Delia shrewdly. 

"The question is Delia, do you still love her too because if you do then you need to stop messing her around. If you don't then you can't guilt her for talking to someone else, you're being a nightmare and at the end of the day I need to look out for my friend." Belatedly Delia found her voice; it was weak.

"She- But if she felt like that why didn't she come and fight for us? Why didn't she try to find me? Not one call, not one attempt at contact. If she was so broken up why didn't she try to save us?" Trixie stared at Delia exasperated.

"Probably for the same reason you didn't." She said as though Delia was being dense. Delia bristled. 

"I did try! For six months I tried everything I could!' Delia shouted, getting to her feet in agitation, 'six months! Six months I put up with the mood swings and rants and drinking and not turning up for days and arguments over the way I folded her washing. The night I left she told me to go, she told me she didn't want me anymore! What else was I supposed to do?" Delia asked to the world in general hotly, Trixie looked torn.

"Delia, I understand why you left. Deep down Patsy does too I think, she's just licking her wounds thats-"

"And what about my wounds?' Delia said angrily, grabbing her hair in frustration, ' What about what it did to me? Or does that not matter. She destroyed me, I gave up my whole life to give her space and I'm still the bad guy. You don't care about me, you just want me to roll over and accept responsibility for both our mistakes. Maybe if Patsy talked to me about this rather than sending you as an envoy it could be solved but she isn't here and I don't feel like explaining myself to you Trixie. You weren't there for all of it. You didn't see her when she telling me to go. It was convincing enough to make me do it and let me tell you, Patsy wasn't the only one falling apart afterwards because whatever you might think about me that stupid woman was my whole world and she destroyed it because she didn't care enough to make an effort... There's so much stuff to talk about and a quick fuck isn't enough for me!" Delia was breathing hard, cold sweat was breaking out on her forehead as she glared at the blonde who looked finally chastened.

"Delia. I get it' Trixie whispered soothingly, 'I really do. I know what she's like but facts being what they are you can't ignore the fact that you're both still in love with each other. Isn't it worth atleast an attempt at reconciliation? She's crazy about you you know." Trixie tried to slide her arm over Delias shoulder but Delia shook her off roughly.

"I don't know.' Delia answered coldly, 'I just know that I've spent more time crying about her than I thinks healthy. I need her to try to be reasonable with me, I need her to be braver somehow but I don't think that's going to happen and anyway' Delia slung her now full bergen over her back, 'I've got to get on a helicopter to the back of beyond in an hour and I don't have the energy to be told off by you Trix." And without waiting for a reply Delia walked away.

The air was frigid outside. Delia had heard there was already snow near the border. Somehow she doubted even the weather could beat Patsys cold shoulder though. Despondently she trudged tiredly towards the hanger, feeling long shadows stretch out behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun...
> 
> This chapter was an absolute pain to write, didn't want them to just argue for the sake of it and I've spent the last few days frantically re writing and re writing it. Hopefully I got the balance right. Wasn't going to update yet but thought I mighy as well as its the scribblers birthday. Happy 21St and all that.
> 
> Anyhoo, hope you're all enjoying the good weather out there; remember to put on the sunblock people!
> 
> SB


	20. we've sniffed the thick green odour of his breath;-

The journey to the new camp was uncomfortable to say the least. Delia was greeted at the hanger by a dark eyed pilot and crew who seemed less than enthusiastic at the prospect of flying directly into what they clearly viewed as an almost inevitable fire fight.

Delia spent the remaining hour waiting in the office off to one side of the runway as the team loaded up the back with supplies; ammunition, ration packs, oil drums for fuel and bulging post bags while casting her ominous glances all the while as they worked.

Patsy arrived only a few minutes before they were due to leave looking harrassed followed closely by a bizarrely animated Urusula who appeared to be attempting to discuss the Taming of the Shrew with gusto while Patsy hastily agreed to anything the woman said in a bid to avoid revealing she had little to no knowledge of the play. Delia managed not to laugh through sheer dint of effort and climbed into the back of the craft without looking back.

Patsy followed soon after and slunk to her seat looking sullen and pink faced. As she passed by Delia sensed her look over but forced herself not to catch the red heads gaze. The residual anger still bubbled thickly in Delias gut when she considered Patsy and she could hardly afford another screaming match surrounded by gossiping squaddies.

Conversation was thankfully made impossible as the choppers twin blades began to turn loudly and filled the cab with the repetitive groaning of metal beating against air. Delia took the helmet passed to her by a frazzled crewman and once she'd donned it was immediately submerged into the chatter of the air crew as it drifted through her ears scratchily while the chinook drifted higher and higher.

The next hour was excruciating. Patsy was like a car crash a few feet away. Delia had to fight with herself not to turn and watch. She knew Patsy was burning to say something, Delia could see from the corner of her eye her knees bouncing slightly as the taller woman wrestled with herself. What would she want to say anyway? Did Delia want to hear it?

Waves of tension rolled off of Patsy like a physical storm. 

Good. 

Delia hoped she was suffering a little.

In a bid to distract from the quandry that was her own life right now Delia forced herself to look out of the window; feigning interest in the changing landscape. The hulk of Debrecen faded from view quickly and was eventually replaced with smaller towns and villages. Tiny squares of darkness huddled together in the shadows; the colours bleeding from wintery grey to powdery white like a drying pallette discarded by some celestial artist. Delia thought she saw little bodies walking through the snow. Pairs and the odd little group but no one made a move to attack them and the chinook passed over it all noisily. Their distorted shadow a bruise against the white of the silent world below.

Eventually, Delia spied something of interest up ahead. A smudge that deepened out into a fingerprint of grey on the landscape. It grew larger and larger as they flew closer. A rough looking square hewn into a hillside that seemed to grow flimsy looking stone walls and slashes of colour on the ground within as they approached. Outside the perimeter were speckles of red on the white blanket of snow. 

Mines. Marks to warn where to step. Delia gasped at the sheer volume of them; her eyes scanning the fields and trying to count them. How many people had been killed mapping it all out? 

There was open ground around the outpost; it must have been fields before the war. Delia spied tiny figures walking around the inside; flashes of metal reflecting in the yellow light of floodlamps. Someone was waving a torch in the air slowly as the chopper descended.

Delia couldn't help but feel her stomach roll at the movement. She hated landing. Her eye was drawn inexplicably to the big fuel drums strapped against one wall. They'd be toast if someone on the other side got a lucky shot right now.

Patsy was definitely watching her. Delia could feel her cheek burning from the gaze and bit her lip nervously. 

Do not look at her. Do not look at her. Do not look at her even if you want to she chanted to herself silently.

The ground floated nearer and nearer until individual faces could be recognised. Two men and a woman waited on the edge of the crudely cleared pad, the wind making their clothes ripple harshly.

As the wheels slammed to earth Delia released the breath she'd been holding and groped to remove her helmet hurriedly. Her ears throbbed as they were finally released from their tight confinement; the air seeming to buzz.

There was a brief parlay between the woman; a dark haired soldier in her thirties and the pilot and then the doors were being opened and Delia and Patsy were beckoned out to join their new team in the compound.

The men who had watched them land bypassed the nurses as they sprang into action and began to efficiently unload the craft. Delia heard their cheerful hellos to the crew drift over on the wind as they walked away. The woman gave them a sharp smile as they approached. Delia had the distinct impression they were being sized up and tried rather pointlessly to stand straighter, trying to give herself a bit more height.

"You two are the nurses?" The woman asked briskly when they were in hearing distance. Delia nodded, not looking to see what Patsys reaction was.

"Excellent, I'm Captain Dyer or Val when we're not on the clock.' Said the woman in an affable sort of voice. Delia felt her eyebrows rise as she took in the woman with new eyes. She looked young for a captain holding her own outpost and there was a definite east end inflection in her accent that seemed out of place. Not one of the posh ones then.

"Pleasure to meet you ma'am. Hopefully you can give us a handover of what's required before we get set up." Said Patsy respectfully at Delias side. Delia kept her gaze trained on the captain refusing to look over at the red head.

"Of course, I'd be happy to do that. I've told the lads to stick your stuff in the old stables. This place has a bit of a murky past I'm led to believe and the barracks are less than pleasant. I'd encourage you both to take the opportunity to basha down there. The men can be somewhat roudy after patrols. Of course nothing too serious' she added hastily seeing Delias curious face, 'they just like to unwind loudly after some of the fights. I've found it helps to keep them under control if they have some lee-way during rest time. In any case come with me and we'll get a cup of something hot at least. I'm afraid supplies are rather sporadic; we've had to stoop to recycling tea bags but I suppose if that's all we need to wear out here then we will simply have to."

Dyer was striding confidently away from them towards a rickety looking building a little way off, her voice fading as she built up distance, still talking to empty air brightly. Not wanting to be left standing beside Patsy Delia followed immediately and she heard Patsy mutter under her breath from behind as she sprang away.

The building was a wooden contraption; rotting beams poked through chipping plaster. There were pock marks all over the walls, bullet holes and nasty looking stains too high up to be non fatal. 

The room Delia followed the captain into wasn't exactly inspiring either. There was a strong smell of damp and decay everywhere. Someone had wrangled a plank of 2x4 into the wall as a makeshift work surface and atop it there was a steaming water boiler and a mish mash pile of mugs scattered like abandoned play things. Delia wondered how Patsy would cope with the lack of any serious attempt at sanitation. 

Probably not very well she concluded dryly as she looked into a blackened cups interior over the captains shoulder. Dyer was already filling three mugs and swapping a tea bag between them all when Patsy caught up and hovered in the doorway a little shyly. Then again... it could be mute horror. Delia fervently hoped someone had packed bleach or there could well be a Patsy melt down in the not too distant future.

Delia purposefully sat at one of the chairs closer to the captain, keeping her back to Patsy as Dyer turned and plonked the cups down on the table looking around expectantly; obviously waiting for Patsy to join them.

Feet padded against the dirt floor. A chair scraped loudly. Patsy sat down beside Delia. Directly beside Delia in fact. Her boot nudged Delias the entire length underneath the safety of the table. Was it on purpose? A warning? An apology? 

Delia lent away nonchalantly as the Captain took a seat across from them and smiled at the pair of nurses while Patsy gingerly inspected her cup. 

"Okay ladies. Oh, I'm afraid we're out of sugar so it'll have to be strong and bitter. Best of British fair." Delia snorted derisively; unable to prevent her thoughts from escaping. She could feel Patsy scowling at her while the captain raised her eyebrows as though expecting the joke to be shared. 

It wasn't.

"So... Right, handover. Well, what can I say? We took this place over from the bears with only a days fight.' Dyer began apparently choosing to ignore the silent quip. "They'd abandoned it somewhat and the crew running the post were sloppy to say the least. Thats not to say they're not out there though. We're having daily pissing contests on patrol and the bastards aren't following any of the rules. They're laying mines everywhere and we've had more than a few close shaves; hence the request for on site medics. ' She nodded at Patsy and Delia politely. 'We go out twice a day. One of you will stay here and the other will go out; I'll leave it to you both to work out a schedule between yourselves for that. 

The patrols swing between general reccys, intelligence gathering, checking in the few villages that aren't abandoned and otherwise making our prescence well and truly felt. Annoyingly developing our position is being hampered by the fact that the Russians are able to skip through the border when we get their trail and the bastards have quite a large contingent a few hundred miles east which I'll admit is making one or two of us more than a little bit twitchy.

Until we're told otherwise our role is to maintain control in the region. We've got around fifty men to do that with so, although I've been told to expect a splurge in troops at some point,' Dyer looked faintly disparaging as she said this, 'I'm doubtful I'm afraid.' She drew lazy circles on the table for a moment looking momentarily worn before shaking her head and returning to her previous cheerful tones.

'And that's it ladies. We're here until we're rotated, told to go elsewhere or we lose the spot. Your stuffs being put in the stables. First patrol goes out in' she glanced at her watch, 'six hours so I suggest you get some sleep. Sort your kit out tomorrow and get ready; it can be a bit tasty outside of these walls so you'll need to prepare yourselves." 

Delia finally gave in and turned to look at Patsy as the captain tailed off looking as though she'd said everything she felt was pertinent. Patsy was still looking at her mug looking fed up.

"Thats it captain?" Delia wasn't sure what she'd expected but it had definitely been something more lengthy in her imagination. Somehow she'd invisioned black boards and strategic looking maps stuck to walls; maybe a few phones stacked up with important and mysterious purposes. The captain was looking at them oddly.

"I've told you everything I know. I'm afraid we're all out of mind up here. Debrecen was a bit of a holiday camp compared to this place.' Dyer heaved herself up to her feet, chugging the tea in one long drawn out swallow and dropping the mug back on the side. She made to turn away before stilling and twisting to look back at the table as though struck by something. 

'Oh, and before I forget, there's a pregnant girl in one of the towns. About fifteen give or take. Someone raped her by the look of it; don't know which side before you ask, it happened before I got here and no ones telling me anything because believe me I've asked. She's about five months gone if I'm any judge and the doctors not bothering with her much because she's having' she inflected her voice into a thick accent, 'the enemys bastard. So as a favour to me I'd appreciate it if you could have look in and check her out. I've tried to build a steady rapport with her but she's distrustful of anyone in uniform as you might expect. I thought two nurses might inspire more confidence. Her parents don't speak English but her brother does and he's translated a few conversation on and off. Would you mind?" Delia stared at the woman; surprised by her matter of fact attitude to the situation she outlined.

"Raped? Has she had any sort of blood tests? She could have caught anything from the father if it was non consensual. How can you not know who did it?" Delia struggled to not sound accusing. Dyer merely smiled wanly and shrugged her shoulders heavily.

"The girl simply says it was a soldier. One uniform is much the same to the locals. I don't believe she has had any tests since the event. See to it when you go." The voice had become a command; the question less so. Beside Delia Patsy placed down her cup delicately the tea undrunk. Dyer looked as though she wanted to say something further but eventually she seemed to think better of it and with a final tight smile the captain left the room. 

Delia listened as the footsteps faded away. From outside someone was whistling a pop tune badly; further off two men were chattering loudly. Patsys boot nudged Delias again a little more heavily and finally Delia allowed herself to turn towards the red head.

Patsys lips were pressed hard together, her eyes nervous as Delia looked at them darkly.

"Delia-" Patsy sounded anxious. Her fingers twitched against the table top. Delia dropped her gaze to them restlessly. The anger and hurt was still too raw; she didn't want to make up. She wanted-

"We need to sleep. Tomorrow I'll go on the first patrol. You're better at cleaning and setting up than I am." Patsys knee bobbing made tiny vibrations on the floor. Delia could feel it through her boots. Her cold voice wasn't what Patsy had expected if the frowning lines between her eyes were anything to go by.

"Delia I'm s-" Sorry? For what, everything? The fight in the tent? Ignoring her? London? Delia wasn't ready to hear it.

"I'm tired Pats. We're not doing this right now; sleep and patrol then we'll see." Delia watched Patsy gulp at the finality in her voice, the big blue eyes were wide and pleading but their magic wasn't working today. Delia got up roughly and walked away; wishing vehemently that a part of her didn't want to walk right back. She hated the conflict. When she was a little girl this hadn't been the kind of love she'd hoped for.

Belatedly, standing in the bitter chill of the parade ground Delia looked around her im dawning geographical difficulties. The captain had said stables but not where the stables where. She looked about embarrassedly trying to see if there was a signpost close by hoping not to hear Patsy barging behind her.

"Busby! That can't be the Welsh scab picker that's been living in my dreams for months can it?!" Delias attention was diverted as a deep voice bounced across the empty air to be followed after a small interlude by a familiar bustling figure. Delia squinted to make out the face.

"Bassett? Billy Bassett, what did you do to get yourself a ticket out here?" Delia exclaimed, unable to prevent herself from answering the grin shot her way by the dark haired lad. A few other soldiers were stood watching from the doorway of what looked like barracks a way away. Light spilled over the snow and their shadows slithered across it.

"Well I was when I last checked." Billy said winking as he came to a halt an arms length away. Delia took him in appraisingly; he looked thinner, the bones more prominent than they'd been in Britain. His cheeks were slightly burnt looking and peppered with light stubble, his hair was verging on floppy. The look suited him Delia thought idly but her brain was poking her to pay closer attention. She frowned at the man... something seemed off; the smile was a little too toothy perhaps and the eyes were oddly cold. 

Strange.

"Where's Charlie? Did you get posted together?" Delia asked as she heard Patsy finally stir from the building behind her. Billy laughed harshly, his lips turning into a ghost of a sneer.

"Charlie? Nah Jock, he really did break his ribs on exercise. He's still in blighty finishing his training the lucky sod. I've told him he's got nine lives for missing out on this treat. Still,' Billy leaned back dramatically as though blinded by a light emanating from Delia. Delia felt a line of warmth spread along her back as Patsy appeared and stood close to her. Two pin pricks in Delias back told her Patsys arms were folded as she watched Billys theatrics. Billy, on seeing Patsy, smacked his forehead loudly and far off his friends could be heard sniggering audibly.

"And red too? Well, we are the lucky boys aren't we?' Billy wolf whistled appreciatively and Delia sensed Patsy bristling.

"We need to find the stables private, I'm assuming the task isn't quite beyond you?" Patsys voice was laced with doubt and Billy smirked as he stretched out his arms while his friends laughed louder.

"Stables? No, no, no. You girls don't want to go to that horrible little hole. The boys and I can make you comfortable in our billet if you wanted?" The suggestion was unmistakable and Delia unconsciously reached out behind her to hold Patsys hand warningly. Patsys breath, which had been inhaled with the promise of admonishment was expelled in a rush at the surprise touch. Momentarily derailed.

"I'm afraid that wouldn't be an option for us Billy; captains orders to remain with our kit, you know how it is. The stables?" Delia stepped forward and smiled her brightest smile at Billy who returned it wolfishly and turned around, crooking out his elbow for Delia to take. 

Delia chose to sidestep this offer, merely standing beside him with an expectant air. After a pause Billy walked away whistling noisily. His stride was a swagger Delia noted. Delia hadn't seen that before, he hadn't been so... confident before. Perhaps killing people for a living helped to boost self worth she considered blandly as she and Patsy followed him away from the main area and over to a corner a way off.

"Toilet block. Shower block." Billy pointed a thumb at various buildings as they passed them. Delia tried to note their places for reference later deciding she'd avoid another site seeing trip with this new Billy is she could but the compound was dark, shadows hung in the corners.

Eventually they all stopped outside of a cobwebbed shack propped against the wall. The name the stables had been a correct supposition. Delia eyed the stalls of the stables distastefully. In the gloom they looked like the teeth of a skull and inexplicably nudged the brain into thinking about long tunnels.

Patsy stepped into the closest stall with a proprietary air, pushing the squeaky door open with a toe. Sure enough the first room was stuffed with boxes. Their stuff was waiting expectantly for them.

Goody.

The next stall was two low slung cots set with a foots space between them. The floor was filled with their bags and rifles. Patsy edged to the door looking back at Delia, eyes flicking to Bassett distastefully.

"Are you coming?" She asked tensely, apparently deciding to pretend Billy wasn't there in the hope it would be the case if she tried hard enough, jaw set. Delia floundered somewhat; every fiber of her being not wanting to enter the tiny space and the other wanting to get away from this new and sharper Billy. 

"In a minute." Delia settled on eventually, watching the play of emotions stutter over Patsys face at the overt rejection. Without another word Patsy turned into their billet, the door bouncing slightly as it slammed behind her. At Delias side Billy chuckled.

"So... she's still got the whole smoldering stroppy thing going for her then?" He asked amused. Delia frowned at him in the twilight; disliking his tone and feeling at a loss at how to defend Patsy.

"She's tired." Delia answered shortly, not meeting Billys eye. 

"Yeah, I'll bet you lot are exhausted after a ride in a chopper. Must be soul destroying." Billy mocked idly. Delia glanced around them; the area seemed deserted.

"Thankyou for your help Billy, I'm sure we don't want to take up any more of your time." She said quietly. Billy snorted again kicking the dirt with his heel absently.

"No trouble at all Jock. Do me a favour though; if the lads ask..." He trailed off suddenly looking more like the man Delia remembered from training. A little embarrassed perhaps.

"Yes?" Delia asked quietly, levelling a bland expression because she instinctively felt this would make him feel more uneasy.

"If they ask, the other lads, will you tell them I... erm, well see they bet me I couldn't get a grope from one of you on the walk. So... could you tell them you let me cop a feel?" Delia blinked at the man watching the unmistakable pink of a blush creep up his neck before surprising them both by laughing loudly. It was a good laugh. Cathartic almost. A big gusty belly laugh that made her sides ache. Billy looked faintly alarmed before resting on one leg dejectedly waiting for Delia to compose herself.

"Well, it might have happened." He said unable laughing himself as he watched Delia clutch a stitch in her ribs; wiping tears from the corners of her eyes shakily, trying to control herself as she hiccuped.

"It... It really.... really, really wouldn't, I promise you. Gods sake! All boys think about is sex I swear, here was me thinking you were all battle hardened you idiot.' Delia swiped his arm amused and Billy grinned. 'No, I won't be telling anyone anything of the sort and if it reaches my ears that you have remember this; I'm a nurse, I can kill you and make it look like an accident." Billy was swinging on his hips as he stared at Delia looking chastened.

"Yeah I know. It was a long shot... suppose a snog would be entirely out of the question." Billy weedled. Delia rolled her eyes and cast a quick glance at the closed door of the stables.

"Not really Billy, you're not my type; not nearly complicated enough I'm afraid." Billy blinked and grinned, a little unsure.

"You still have that lad back in Wales waiting for you?" He asked easily and Delia laughed a little bitterly.

"Not exactly Bill just not looking to be the camp mattress any time soon. Squaddies aren't really my type." Nurses... different story perhaps.

"Right, well if you change your mind..."

"You'll be the first to know." Delia assured him smiling. Billy flashed a final grin before walking away, hands in his pockets and whistling tunelessly to the night air.

Delia stood outside for a few moments on her own watching her breath float around her face, dampening her cheeks as his whistles dissappeared. The wind was freezing, she stared at long icicles protruding from the mantles of a nearby shower block. The stained plastic blue shells standing side by side like sentries as she tried to gather her thoughts. Prepare herself.

Well this was... 

Patsy...

Delia thought....

Nothing really. Crap. Delias brain felt unhelpfully blank. The thoughts non forthcoming in light of what was waiting for her behind the door. Eventually the cold began to have an affect, Delias teeth chattered and she knew she couldn't put off being alone with Patsy any longer. Heart hammering Delia turned around and puller the iron latch up gingerly.

It creaked loudly. Lovely.

The room had been quite clearly an actual stable. Delia could see strands of ancient hay weaved through thick cobwebs in the rafters. Patsy had shoved her bergen at the foot of her bed and was sitting on her mattress with her back to the wall, arms crossed and looking thunderous.

Delia ignored her. Not wanting to start something she didn't have the energy to deal with as she dragged her own bag to the end of the remaining cot. It creaked aswell. Delia felt the ancient springs shudder and groan as she lowered herself onto the lumpy shape. Patsy was glowering at her meaningfully. Clearly holding back from saying something cutting.

Delia sighed as she shrugged off her bulky jacket and boots, twisting her feet this way and that feeling the bones click together as she rubbed at her neck. The helmet from the journey had been heavy; she'd feel it in the morning without a doubt. Patsy was tapping her foot against the zip of her bag still fighting with herself. Delia watched her tiredly until Patsy lost the battle.

"Nice chat?" She asked gruffly in the end, her voice sharp. Delia nodded slowly. feeling exhausted.

"Yes, it was good thanks." Patsy bit her lip for a moment before shooting Delia an aggrieved glance.

"I heard you laughing with him. Want to tell me the joke?" Delia looked at Patsy hard, her mind unhelpfully empty. She couldn't do this tonight.

"No." Delia answered shortly, laying down on top of the covers, looking up at the criss cross pattern of decades worth of cobwebs. A fat shiny backed spider was hanging still in the center, Delia watched it feeling a surprising amount of nothing. She could sense Patsy struggling to cope with her lack of response.

"He wants to see you naked." Patsy snapped angrily after a pause, springs on her bed creaked ominously as she vibrated with barely controlled energy.

"Yes, well, I'll relax in the sure knowledge that you'll tell him there's a queue and he's at the back if needs must." Delia said dispassionately still looking at the spider. Patsy stilled at this. Delia knew she wanted Delia to look over; to soften. Delia didn't think she could at the minute.

"A queue. Think a lot of yourself." Patsy muttered eventually flopping down onto her own mattress loudly.

Gloink. Clang. Silence.

"Patsy...' Delia couldn't fully plan her sentences. Talk. They needed to do that she knew... just not now. 'We need to have a conversation; preferably one where we allow each other to speak our minds without one of us leaving in a huff or exploding. Do you think it's possible?" Patsy huffed in the dark but paused as though thinking hard.

"I don't explode." She said a tad stubbornly after several minutes of contemplation. Delia blinked, her eyelids felt heavy.

"No, you walk off. But I take your point. Still... We need to. We need to talk about this properly."

"I'm trying to but you're not looking at me." Patsy accused from her position a foot away. Delia smiled grimly.

"Tomorrow... After the patrol we're going to do it, properly, trust me on that." Her tone brooked no argument, a fact Patsy seemed to pick up on.

"We could talk now you know..." She cajoled softly. Delia shook her head forgetting Patsy couldn't see the movement.

"No we can't. Right now I'm so angry it'll go one of two ways." They're breathing drummed two uneven tattoos in the silent air.

"Which are?" Patsy probed nervously.

"Which are; we'll have another row which I don't want or I'll give in and sleep with you which I also don't want right now. Go to sleep Pats. I'll still be here in the morning." 

There was another long pause.

"Will you? Be there in the morning? You've been known to be a flight risk before now." Patsys voice quivered with some half recognizable emotion and Delia felt another wave of fatigue hit her. She gave no answer as she turned on her side to face the wall. 

"Night Pats." 

Silence reigned for what felt like half an hour before it was broken again. 

"Delia... you don't really want to shoot me do you?" Patsy sounded vaguely timid as she asked this and Delia laughed quietly to herself at the ridiculous question.

"Sometimes... mostly not though." She answered quietly. There was a thoughtful silence and then-

"Delia, do you hate me?" Patsy asked softly. Delia stared at the wall unseeing, stomach clenching painfully at the question. Is that what Patsy thought of her? Hate? No Pats not hate; exhaustion, fatigue, frustration and a truck load of heart ache yes...

"No Pats, quite the opposite in fact. Goodnight."

Patsy didn't reply, wisely choosing not to push any more and after a while they both drifted into uneasy sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... And lo a stray banana emerges from its solitude
> 
> Alright gang, had a week or so off but I'm back. Next three chapters are all partially written so updates should be fairly quick.
> 
> Hope everyone's alright. Patsy Mount I hope your exams went well etc
> 
> SB


	21. Our eyes wept, but our courage didn't writhe.

The next morning dawned bright and inevitable. Delia opened her eyes suddenly as though woken by invisible hands shaking her and was momentarily confused as she took in her surroundings. She'd almost forgotten last night although it could only be a few hours ago. The stables looked little better when viewed through the lens of muted daylight than it had the night before.

Twice in the night Delia had started awake; the noisy creak of her mattress jarring her as she slept and making her jump skittishly.

From a little way off Patsy was laying on her front curled up in a ball, hand pressed against her cheek like a child as she slept on contentedly. The thin blanket was bunched around her legs where she must have kicked it away in the night. Delia allowed herself a few private moments of consideration as she watched the red head snore quietly.

They would talk today.

Delia didn't know if it would be any real help but as she lay on her side watching the steady rise and fall of Patsys chest she knew she wanted to. If Patsy would just show some willing... Shaking her head hopelessly Delia tried to get up as quietly as possible even with the steady noises emanating from the ancient cot.

Slipping on her heavy boots and picking up her jacket as stealthily as she could manage Delia found herself staring around the camp in the pale morning light several minutes later clutching her rifle awkwardly in one hand and the crinkled weight of her jacket in the other.

The sky was a garish pink above her head and the ground seemed somehow more vast blanketed as it was by a thick untouched dusting of snow underfoot.

Delia took an opportunity to duck into the toilet block as she passed by; desperately needing a wee and splashed the orangey tinged water onto her face where is stung the cheeks with its coldness before leaving and striding towards the parade ground. Instinct told her it was the best bet to look for the others.

Her questing feet took her along an invisible path, her eyes took in the ragged assembly of old haggard structures as they flashed up in her peripheral vision. They all looked sad and half gutted out. Discoloured paint peeled away from beams in long curling spirals. The walls looked as though a good kick might knock through and Delia wondered bleakly if that was a real threat. 

Three times she stumbled as her feet struck hidden dips in the ground. On the final unexpected impediment Delia kicked at the snow irritably, her throbbing toes aching, to see what the problem was. Something unidentifiable had gauged a chunk of soil away in a pitted crater. The underside of snow was stained a sandy yellow where someone had attempted to fill the hole carelessly. 

Feeling notably glum Delia eventually found 'Gods acre' where she'd left it near the landing pad the night before. About ten army lads were standing in a relaxed huddle around it, heavy packs slung about their feet and rifles close at hand. Delia spotted Bassett and Dyer amongst them. 

"Jock! You're to be our florence nightingale for the trip then?" Called Billy merrily as he noticed Delia approaching over his mates shoulder. Delia grinned toothily.

"Florence Nightingale Bassett? Forgot my candles today so it'll be a poor mans version." Billy laughed and a few of his colleagues jostled him goadingly.

"Here, Bassett, thought you were on stag this morning. Don't suppose you want to explain why you're now in the patrol party?" Dyer asked striding towards Delia looking bemused. Billy pinked as his friends jeered and someone muttered something his way. Delia fancied she heard 'wants to see his nurse' faintly from a blonde squaddie who was smirking broadly. 

"Swapped with Connolly ma'am, his knees playing him up, says it's the cold weather." Bassett said in a passably honest voice. Delia doubted every word as someone wolf whistled.

"Oh dear, again! Connolly certainly seems to be having a run of poor health. I'll make a note to have a word with him after we get back; I'm sure he'll repeat every word back to me verbatim eh Bassett." Said Dyer dryly while someone sniggered at the back of the group out of sight. Bassett looked nervous but nodded jerkily. 

"Yes ma'am deffo." Dyer snorted as she passed a green bag to Delia looking amused.

"You're bag of tricks Florence. We head out in ten, we'll be marching due East today, nothing too arduous. Some nasty reports have reached my ears that a raiding party went into one of the hamlets. Need visual confirmation of it before I call in the flying squad. Paxo, our techy, will be taking point. The Bears may have left us a few presents overnight and it's better to be safe than sorry. You can hang near the back with Juno and Bassett since he seems to be so keen on keeping your company." Billy was momentarily hidden from view as his mates punched his arm and head in that mysterious male friendship ritual Delia had never completely understood. Dyer watched them, her face unmistakably fond as catcalls rippled between the men.

Delia spent the next ten minutes hurriedly checking her newly issued med bag. She was pleasantly surprised by its comprehensive contents and could find little fault with the way it was packed. Probably done neater than she could of. 

Billy hovered off to one side. Delia chose to ignore him as she rustled elbow deep in her bag but privately worried somewhat about his crush like behaviour. Scanning the crowd furtively she wondered how many admirers Patsy was going to accrue once she showed her face about the camp. Delia would pay good money to watch her deal with anyone who pressed their suit too ardently.

"So nurse? Busby right?" The blonde man Delia had noticed earlier was standing nearby. His rifle butt was resting on the floor and he was leaning a propped elbow on the barrel nonchalantly. He had a rather large boil on his forehead Delia noted; it protruded from his face and Delia couldn't help but stare at it in fascination. She couldn't really help it; she was one of lifes squeezers. 

"That's right. I didn't get your name though."

"Juno. It's Juno.' Delia wondered if she could manage to get a needle onto the boil at some point. Surely he'd consider it a favour in the long run... 

"Ahh Dyer said I'd be walking with you. Give me a minute and I'll be ready; just checking out my kit." Delia said easily squinting from her position on her knees up at the man. He seemed to be holding back a snigger as he looked behind him; there were a few others ranged nearby looking expectant. Delia narrowed her eyes.

"No problem, take your time, you look good from this angle' the suggestive tone was not lost on Delia or her audience; someone hooted appreciatively. Delia felt her smile freeze on her face, 'just wanted to ask though Busby. When we get back I'm probably going to need your help. Tell me; did they ever teach you about sponge baths?" More sniggers, Delia shot the soldiers a sharp glance and they shifted about looking a mite embarrassed as she got to her feet heavily.

"Sponge bath?' She kept her voice light and airy even as she mentally pictured removing that boil with a hot spoon. 'Doubt anyone thought of packing one of those private. Tell you what though if you're a good lad I'll get a bucket of water and you can wash with that if you like." Juno grinned apparently unaffected as someone made 'oooh' noises. 

"Speaking of buckets... One more question Busby; as a female soldier' Delia noticed the way his lip curled derisivly as he said the words, 'what exactly is the most exciting thing you've ever done with your rifle? It's just I've been told on good authority anything to you lot anything is a dildo if you're brave enough." Even the other soldiers seemed a little stunned by their colleagues daring and eyes switched to both of them nervously. Delia was, for once, cast into silence for a moment as Bassett came to her aid, bustling closer and punching the smiling mans arm forcefully.

"Watch your mouth Juno, she doesn't deserve that." Juno didn't respond verbally only paused to flick a crooked middle finger at Bassett lazily as he reached out to shoulder his heavy looking pack.

"Squad, fall in!" Called an oblivious Dyer from a little way away. Delia realised she'd have heard nothing of what had just transpired as she'd evidently been in deep conversation with the techy. A tall man who wore a bulky pack with an aerial protruding out from its top. His rifle was slung over his shoulder as he fiddled with a complicated looking computer pad distractedly.

Everyone moved at the command, hustling into a tidy line facing a large gate. Delia reluctantly stepped behind the still smiling Juno and Bassett stood behind her.

"You all know what to do guys. No fuck ups or near misses today. We're going for a long walk and everyone's coming back home after we're finished, is that understood?" Shouted Dyer from the head of the pack beside Paxo. Delia felt her shoulder burn where the pack cut into it. She hoped she wouldn't have too bad a bunch of blisters by the time they got back. Juno shouted 

'No ma'am!" In a sycophantic sort of tone that made Delia want to mutter, 'teachers pet' under her breath.

And then they were off. 

The outer fields were very flat, the wind instantly grew in strength as they filed down a winding track following Paxo and Dyer. The white spread out everywhere so that the landscape became one vast panoramic of snow and ice. To Delia it seemed deadened somehow and as they walked Delia noticed again the red stains of mine markers dotted like strange crimson flowers at random intervals. After twenty minutes they passed a particularly large cluster and Delia turned to look at Billy incredulously.

"There's so many of them, why haven't we just detonated them?" She asked curiously. Billy shrugged.

"We did for a bit but there's loads and you never know exactly how many there are. We'd blow a whole load one day and then the next day there'd be more in the same place. It's like it's a game to the other side. Dyer said we just mark and avoid if we can manage it. The locals have learnt but a few weeks ago they did a few outside one of the bigger towns as a sort if revenge for letting us go in I reckon.' Billy looked strained as he paused to consider the memory before shivering, 'bastards got twenty people. There were body parts everywhere; blood, guts, brains, limbs all piled together. Couldn't even pick it apart to seperate the bodies out. We had to spend an afternoon digging out a mass grave in the end. Never wanted to shoot someone more in my life Jock... The whole place is rigged. Think that's why you're here. You're needed to help if it happens again." Bassetts cheeks crinkled as he looked at Delia. Delia felt all of a sudden immensely underprepared. She wasn't a magician, not even a doctor.

Turning back she eyed Dyers back as it bobbed at the front. Delia hoped the woman was wise enough to ask for no miracles from her.

The next hour and a half trickled past in a tight, harsh manner. Delia could not shake off a feeling of being watched whether it be from the soldiers or someone else. The rhythmic beat of boots crunching through hard snow was almost hypnotic and they steadily travelled through swathes of empty white. Occasionally the view would be disturbed as they crossed small cottages (abandoned and haunted). They saw no other travellers on their route. No birds or noises from nature were discernable.The road felt forsaken. A natural no mans land devoid of life.

Except for them of course. 

After another half an hour Delia began to wonder how far they had yet to travel. Her stomach griped and she thought ruefully of the fact she had not had breakfast. She distracted herself from the monotonous movement by daydreaming fat bacon sandwiches and boiling mugs of strong tea. Patsy had probably broken by now and steralised a mug for her own private use.

Her thoughts were curtailed when Juno halted without warning. Delia actually walked into him; accidentally scraping her boot down his ankle and making him hiss in brief pain. Delia mumbled an apology although secretly enjoyed watching the man bend to rub at the offended limb. 

Baby.

The rest of the squad had stopped at Paxos non verbal command. Delia felt a splurge of embarrassment that she'd missed it. Ahead was what seemed to be a pocket forest. A ring of fir trees stood proudly in the distance. The lush green stood out boldly from their dull surrounding and Delia stared at them with vague interest thinking the village was probably close by.

"Captain, there's bodies hanging up there!" Someone shouted from closer to the front. Delia narrowed her eyes, impending dread nudging her as she squinted at the darkness.

Sure enough there was... something. Several somethings in fact, very faintly she thought she could see little flashes of colour in the gloom. Delia focused on the image intently as the squad pressed on more urgently at another silent order from Paxo who appeared intent on his pad.

The shapes shimmered, mirage like in the distance but the shadows were diminishing as the squad drew increasingly near. It was only when they were about 500 metres away that Delia finally recognised the unknown soldiers cries to be truth. Prepared as she thought she had been she could not prevent herself from gasping audibly.

Three silhouettes were dangling on thick ropes from jutting tree branches. Delia scanned the shapes feeling sick. One looked too small to be an adult; the tiny legs were suspended limply a few feet from the ground. She couldn't yet make out any faces even though the bodies swung about in the faint breeze like abandoned puppets.

"One of them twitched." Said a young man close by sounding hopeful and glancing at Delia as though expecting something. Delia looked at him sadly. These people would doubtlessly have been in this position for some time before now; the squad would cut down only corpses today.

"We need to get them down." Said Delia briskly trying to catch Dyers eye. Dyer wasn't looking her way though; instead, she was watching the techy seriously.

"Is it safe?" She asked tensely to the man as he tapped hurriedly on his tiny computer screen.

"Doubt it ma'am. Too suspicious leaving them there. More than likely there'll be a few roasties planted nearby to wipe us out. They know we do reccys. Seen it done before." Dyer looked a little pale as she eyed the dead stonily. 

"I need facts Paxo not feelings. How quick can you give me evidence?" Paxo raised an eyebrow looking slightly harrassed. 

"If it's evidence you want we can move everyone back a few hundred yards. Take pot shots and we'll set one off. Problem is I couldn't tell you yet how many there are, need to get the detector out first . A controlled explosion could set off a domino effect and then those bodies are going to need identifying through dental records." Dyer didn't look away from the bodies as she considered this; the squad waiting anxiously looking at the white snow with suspicion now.

"You've got half an hour. They picked this place because we're exposed. I don't like it. What do you need?" Paxo looked like a man with tickets to the world cup final being asked to work a double shift but focused quickly back to his computer with pursed lips.

"In that case; I need half an hour boss." 

The squad fanned out as Paxo worked. Delia couldn't stop herself from looking at the bodies from time to time. The other two looked like women; too slight to be anything but. She wondered how many people had woken up today without these people there. Her eyes took in the smaller body sadly. Someones life destroyed for sport.

After thirty five minutes; the final five minutes accompanied entirely by pointed coughs from Dyer. Paxo nodded as though satisfied by something and reached into his bag to pull out a rattling spray can.

"So... I'm pretty certain they're not radio frequency triggers. Probably pressure pads put under the snow. Historically they lay them in a grid pattern. EM readings suggest two; one either side of the trees." He dropped the computer into his pack and pulled out a collapsible metal detector; his thumb flicked on the power immediately and the small light flicked amber.

"Won't know hundred percent 'til we're over there but I'm almost certain I'm right. Permission to go and double check Captain?" He directed his words to Dyer though everyone was listening intently. Dyer looked thoughtful for a beat before nodding firmly.

"Granted Paxo. Take Bassett and Busby with you.' She spared a look towards Delia looking mildly apologetic. 'Just dotting the I's and crossing the T's Busby. There's the wild possibility one of them might be alive I suppose and you'll need to check immediately." Delia nodded feeling the hairs prickle stiffly on her arm as something cold ran down her spine. Fear probably.

Repositioning the med bag on shoulders that suddenly felt slippery from cold sweat she watched Paxo stride forward confidently, jutting out his gadget before him and wending it over the ground looking contemplative. Delia shared a quick glance with Bassett before squaring her shoulders restlessly and following. Paranoia made every footstep feel a little difficult; her mind kept picturing an explosion and each crunch on snow left her heart hammering.

The short walk felt like an age and their steps were all terribly slow. Foreshortened by loud beeping emanating from Paxos metal detector. When the trees were finally close enough to cast shadows Delia finally managed a good look at their quarry.

Close up something seemed off about the cadavers. The limbs were disproportionate, an arm swollen here but another emaciated elsewhere. There were brown hessian sacks over the faces but Delia thought the heads were awkwardly shaped aswell. Something yellow tufted out from beneath the closest bodies jumper. Delia stared at it uncomprehendingly; surely it couldn't be...

"Somethings wrong." Bassett muttered looking at the bodies and frowning. Paxo was tapping on his screen again with furrowed brows. Delia took a cautious step forward to inspect the telling strand. It was yellow and brittle looking. Standing less that a foot away she finally saw what had been hidden by distance. Straw. It was everywhere poking through clothes and at the wrists. Long spindly yellow straw, it was stuffed into the shapes to make them humanoid. Delia felt a wave of shock as she realised they bodies were-

"Scarecrows! Fucking scarecrows." Anger was growing in Billys voice like weeds on a hot day. Delia plucked a strand poking from the closest figures jumper and held it between thumb and forefinger inspecting how the light danced along the length dully.

"Probably booby trapped. Very clever really, we think the dangers on the way in and really it's them.' Paxo was said in a scientific sort of tone as he eyed the bodies serenely, 'I can't help but appreciate a good red herring. Too many hours as a kid reading Christie and Conan Doyle." Billy wasn't listening apparently. He was staring at the mannequins with red patches growing on his cheeks. Delia recalled his short fuse from training.

"So it's just another one of their stupid jokes? Sick fucks like messing with our heads, we ought to just play them at their own game. Send a few nukes their way to see how funny they find that!" Billy was pacing somewhat as Delia and Paxo watched him warily. 

"I am so bloody sick of this!" Too late to be stopped Billy kicked out unexpectedly at the closest body. It sheered off at the torso and the legs landed softly on the floor. Small snippets of hay fluttered in the air. The body wobbled and twisted still suspended by the ropes.

"Nooooo," Paxo was staring at Billy murderously, 'it's a trap you tard!" Delia became aware of a faint hissing noise as though a tyre had been punctured. The air seemed all of a sudden hazy and oddly yellow. Delia had a second to consider the change before Paxo sprung into action.

"Gas! Gas! Gas!" Delia flinched as she was unceremoniously dragged about and shoved back towards the squad still stood watching them from afar. Paxo was physically towing Bassett who seemed to have frozen in shock. Delia felt panic try to overwhelm her as her legs pounded the ground desperately hoping she didn't hit a mine or anymore surprises. The world blurred as her lungs burned with the rushed influx of icy air.

The rest of the squad rushed to meet them, rifles pointed the way they'd come, face resolute.

"What? What was it?" Asked Dyer to Delia. Delia couldn't quite speak yet as she slowed and bent in half breathing deeply. Her hands were shaking. 

"Delay tactics ma'am. The bodies aren't human, they booby trapped gas cannisters in them for when we cut them down." Answered Paxo who'd let go of Bassett looking disgusted and was wiping his palms on his front as though they were contaminated.

"Why did you run then?" Questioned Dyer curtly, her dark eyes looking back to the copse of trees before studying all three of them. Paxo answered quickly and easily; not looking at Billy.

"It was a trap boss. best we just blow the mines by the trees to make the area safe then go home. They won't be nearby now, the place was rigged hours ago." Dyer paused and Delia was certain she knew she wasn't being given the whole story but quickly seemed to push further curiosity away. Her eyes fell of Juno still cradling his rifle.

"Right, take a few pot shots then Juno and we'll get out of here." 

Juno seemed inordinately pleased to be given the task and made quite a show of sighting up his target before squeezing off a few rounds. They all watched as the bullets bounced on the floor and then two explosions ripped up a few saplings and the scent of gunpowder drifted over on the wind. Delia gulped and imagined how she'd have faired in the saplings place; bits of tree thudded to the floor like the pitter patter of distant rain.

The return march was just as calm and uneventful as the walk to the site. Delia struggled to understand how everyone seemed to be taking the situation so calmly. Her blood was cold as she considered how badly it could have been; the bodies could have been real, the mines could have been closer to the tree line, the cannisters could have triggered without them knowing.

One thing was clear; Delia wasn't in Pembrokeshire any more...

By the time they'd got back to the camp Delia was famished, her feet hurt and she fervently hoped Patsy had thought to save her something to eat or their deep and heartfelt conversation would begin with the immortal line; 

"feed me or die." 

Her spirits were brought back from this black spot as the entire squad was greeted by the smell of bacon and eggs being fried. As one soldier they followed the smells to the tea shack where a spotty looking soldier was dropping heaps of fried food into stale looking rolls.

They all fell upon it like starving dogs; Delia managing somehow to snag two as the blokes piled around the plate. She thought she saw Bassett try to insinuate himself closer as she edged back to the door but was saved from any awkward brush offs when Dyer stepped behind Billy and whispered something in his ear. Paxo was watching from afar his expression unreadable.

Delia slipped out before anyone could call her back and made her way across the camp to the stables; her thoughts jolting between what she'd just been through and what could yet happen. Her stomach churned slightly as she turned a corner and saw the door to their would be clinic hanging open.

Gripping her courage in mental hands Delia tip toed over to the opening trying to be as quiet as possible. Patsy was standing with her back to the door routing through miscellaneous boxes stacked neatly against the far wall. Delia took in the change to the space achieved in her absence.

Patsy had built another cot and pressed it against the wall. The other side was devoted to clinical stuff; needles, sterastrips etc etc etc. A tiny portable steraliser and a table top set of drawers for admin were perched on a spindly legged table. Delia smiled as she noted the pair of scrubbed mugs laid side by side on the side table.

It felt good to know she still knew this woman. Her eyes wondered guiltily to the slender back, drifted down to stare a pert bum... and then snapped back up as Patsy turned around.

They watched one another carefully. Delia was reminded of a western, each waiting to take the first shot. Patsy broke first.

"Hello." 

"Hi." 

"You we're gone when I woke up so I thought... I might as well get everything... sorted." Patsys nervous fingers twitched on the table where they'd placed a box. Delia smiled faintly.

"You always used to tidy when you were nervous... that cupboard near the toilet was the bane of my existence." Delia said reminiscently recalling coming home from shift and tripping over boxes waiting to be emptied and repacked. Patsy smiled fondly at the shared memory but the smile faded as the moment stretched out in front of them. Delia padded over to the cot and sat down gently watching Patsy calmly.

"I'm sorry." Patsy sounded resigned. Delia narrowed her eyes.

"Okay, what for exactly?" Delia stared at Patsy cooly, not sure if this was going to work.

"I shouldn't have taken you turning me down so badly, shouldn't have ignored you like I did." Patsy it seemed was going to discuss only recent events. Delia steeled herself. It wasn't enough, they needed to hash everything out or else... well, recent events were merely the tip of the iceberg.

"I accept, but it comes with one condition."

"Right." Patsy slumped; she must have been expecting something like this.

"My one condition is that you sit here and talk to me properly. We need to do it Pats, I know its going to be horrible and neither of us are going to like it but we need to do it. Otherwise we're going to keep running around in circles and I don't want to do that anymore." Delia patted the edge of the bed encouragingly.

"Please Pats." She asked again in a quieter voice. Patsy recoiled slightly looking pale.

"Talk about everything... That's a lot of baggage Deels." Delia restrained herself from rolling her eyes. Tell me something I didn't already know sweetheart.

"I know that; but it's our baggage so if we don't talk about it it'll just get bigger and bigger; let's just take the bull by the horns and deal with it." Patsy chewed her lip looking torn before resting her hands on her hip. Delia recognised the defensive gesture.

"Alright, alright but I reserve the right to walk away if you go too far." Delia stared at Patsy and shook her head.

"Fine, then I reserve the right to drag you back. Patsy; it's me, you can talk to me about anything." Patsy clenched her jaw, the eyes shuttering closed.

"Not anymore Delia. Not completely." Delia slumped forward hating this constant sensation of distance between them.

"Just try, please." She said in a small voice wanting Patsy to give her something, anything to hold on to. She did, in a fashion. Shaking her hands in the air angrily.

"Okay. Okay, fine. What do you want to talk about?"

"Faith.' Predictably, Delia watched Patsy stiffen and she forced herself not to let the glimmer of exasperated frustration show on her face as she went on 'you never talked about it before and that's where the trouble started for me so I think enough time has passed that we should just get it out there." Patsy was chewing her lip looking wretched.

"Faith... I don't talk about Faith Delia." Delia schooled her features into an understanding expression even as a little part of her advised that the easier course would be to just walk away.

"I know you don't, I know it's hard but if you want to sort this out then we need to." Delia said softly as Patsy squinted at the opposite wall. There was silence for a few minutes but Delia didn't push any more. Patsy didn't look as though she was planning to leave as she'd threatened, instead, she looked introspective as though pondering a response. Slowly, Patsy settled on the furthest other end of the bed looking tense.

"I loved my sister." Patsy whispered eventually, sounding as though the thought came from a long way away. Years probably Delia thought sadly.

"But she killed herself and she left you." Delia finished the unspoken half of Patsys statement and Patsys face snapped back at the perceived slight to her sibling. Always the protective big sister to the end.

"So did you!" She accused, sitting straight, chest expanding, her voice harsh but Delia chose to ignore it for the moment unwilling to let Patsy excuse herself by distracting them from the subject at hand.

"We'll get to me in a minute Pats. We're talking about Faith right now.' Delia said calmly watching Patsy wrestle with herself; 'when Faith died you shut down. Everyone was an enemy, you were distraught... you shut me out. Over and over again. I felt like everything I did made things worse; if I pushed you you exploded at me and if I left you to it you just drifted further away. I didn't know what to do and you didn't help me." Patsy frowned at Delia for a moment before deflating somewhat. Sagging back down looking dejected and shameful.

"I was angry; I was mourning." She whispered her fingers drifting to her mouth. Delia watched her worry her teeth around a tidy nail for a moment before giving in and pulling it away firmly. Their eyes met.

Always butterflies.

"And I accepted that Pats, I understood. I tried so hard but it was like you hated me. Everything was an argument, everything was a fight. You were my best friend and you just couldn't stand me." Delia felt the ghost of the pain from back then. So much angry silence, so many opportunities to talk that neither had been brave enough to attempt. The confusion and the tears. Patsy seemed genuinely taken aback as she stared at Delia; maybe the strain of it was more visible than Delia thought.

"I didn't hate you,' Patsy said sincerely, her thumb running down Delias hand gently as she seemed to marshall herself, 'I was... I was angry with Faith for doing it I suppose. I was angry at myself for not doing enough to stop it; I was her sister and she killed herself. If I had done more, if I had seen it she'd still be here. I felt like I'd failed and I took it out on you because you were there." Patsys eyes darkened as she spoke, her voice lowering like a child admitting a terrible fault. Delia wanted to cry for her grief. Patsy had loved Faith and sometimes love alone was not enough to save people.

"Pats thats not true, you have to know thats not true.' Delia freed her hand to pull Patsys face back up from where it had lowered to point towards the floor, 'Faith had her own demons and you've worked in enough suicides to know rationally that if people want to do it there's nothing anyone can do. You did everything you could for her. She loved you." Patsy gulped, her cheeks red against the white of Delias hand. She could feel Patsy shaking. Tense.

"But I was her sister! I was her person and I didn't see it! I thought she was getting better. I didn't see the danger signs. I was so happy, I thought everything had finally come circle. I had Faith back in my life and she was on track and I had you. I thought I had it all trussed up and then..." Patsy broke away rocking in her seat, her eyes haunted. 

"You couldn't have known sweetheart.' Delia said in a thick voice. Remembering how bad it had been in those first few weeks; the constant yo yoing of grief between rage and sadness. 'Faith thought the world of you and we were on track for all of that. I know I wasn't the only one thinking about babies and marriage. You shouldn't feel guilty for that. These things happen but you are not the reason Faith killed herself, you didn't make that happen Pats." Delia wanted to weep. She wanted a time machine to stop it from happening. Faiths decision had destroyed so many lives, so many plans ruined, so many dreams scattered and all they were left with was the wreckage even so many years later.

"She loved me so much she jumped in front of a train. You loved me so much you dissappeared completely and didn't speak to me for five years. Loves not everything I thought it would be." Patsy said despondently pulling her face from Delias grasp at last. Delia felt the loss like a burn. She wanted Patsy close.

"You told me to leave Patsy. That night; you told me to go." Delia reminded her pointedly, not wanting the moment to dissolve.

"I didn't think you'd listen, you were the one person I thought I could trust." Patsy answered wretchedly. The fingers were back to her mouth. Delia wondered how long it would be before she would need a smoke. 

"And you were the one person who I'd do anything for Pats.' Delia said quietly, feeling something heavy weigh on her chest as she looked at the red head, making sure her voice remained calm, soft. Even so; it still hurt. 'We were a mess, it didn't seem as though you cared one way or another. We argued all the time and I was exhausted; I didn't know how to help you. I didn't know what to do anymore I just kept hoping you'd wake up, you'd still be sad but you'd love me again. I kept waiting. I wanted to give you space; and frankly I needed time alone too so I went away for a week on that stupid training course and the whole time' Delia could feel Patsy watching her and it made this so much harder. She wished things were different; ironically Patsy was the only person she wanted to fix this and yet she'd caused it. 

'I was thinking about you. I thought things might be better when I came home, I had all these stupidly soppy scenarios in my head. Maybe you'd pick me up and have some flowers or, I don't know, you'd have cooked something even though you're rubbish at cooking and you'd say you missed me and wanted to make it up,' Delia chuckled self deprecatingly feeling stupid admitting it. 'Well, we both know I didn't get that... instead, when I got back you were blind drunk. The flat was a hole. I came home to a blazing row and you telling me you didn't want to be with me anymore.' In her minds eye Delia could picture it all so clearly; Patsys impotent rage and her own final lack of ability to excuse it anymore. She fancied she tasted the bile she'd wretched up halfway down the street as she'd walked away, Patsys voice ringing in her eyes. 'I believed that. I believed it and I left but let's not live in doubt here I was a mess without you.' Patsy looked as though she planned to say something but Delia raised her hand; she needed to get it out now or she'd never say it.

'I stayed at my mams until I could find somewhere, I didn't go back to work for a month. I just didn't know what to do with myself and I wanted to get in touch with you Pats. I missed you so much it killed me, every night I'd just stare at the wall fighting with myself, wondering how you were, if you were missing me as badly as I was missing you but I knew if we saw each other we'd just fall right back into something and that's not what either of us needed. We needed to be apart and in any case' Delia couldn't quite manage to hide the hurt now, 'you never tried to find me either so all I could take from that was that you really had meant it and I'd just been flogging a dead horse for all that time." Patsy was staring at her sorrowfully, shaking her head as though to throw away the words she'd just heard. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Deel's. I wasn't angry at you. I was a mess. I... I don't know how to make it up to you... I was just so angry in general and you were always there to take it. If I'd have been more present then I don't know, maybe I would have seen that and tried but I was bogged down. In a way you leaving was the wake up call I needed but I didn't know how to fix what I'd done. I thought... If I'd known...' Patsy sighed rubbing her face looking beaten. 'I would have come and got you... I'd have stormed up to Wales or, or, or been braver somehow but I just saw it that you'd finally realised I wasn't good enough for you." Patsy looked defeated and Delia couldn't control the impulse to push away the shadows. Cautiously she pulled closer and wrapped her arms around Patsys waist, placing a soft kiss to the red heads temple. Patsy went rigid as Delia moved but at the kiss she relaxed somewhat and tucked Delias head under her chin.

Old habits.

"That's not true Patsy. This was never about 'being good enough' this was just about us drifting apart. I'm not excusing your behaviour but in the circumstances you had reasons. I just wasn't the right person to help you. It happens sometimes." Delia said quietly. From above Delias head Patsy sighed and brought her own arms around Delia.

"You're wrong. You were exactly the right person. I still think you were. You were the love of my life, know that. Some people do fall apart, I knew that. It's just... I suppose, I never thought it would happen to us that's all." Patsy whispered, her breathing wafting over Delias hair.

'No, me neither. We were a good match." Delia said eventually controlling the wobble in her voice with difficulty. It would be so easy to burrow into Patsys warmth; sitting here was too familiar. 

"You always pushed me, you forced me to be better than I was." Patsy whispered distantly, her arms contracting tightly about Delia as though she didn't want to let go. Delia didn't want her to.

"Yes, well, I was pretty perfect. Idiot." Delia deadpanned, she heard Patsy huff against her scalp in muted amusement. She'd be rolling her eyes.

"Do you think if she hadn't died we'd still be together?" Patsy asked eventually, leaning back slightly, pulling Delia with her so they both rested against the wall wrapped together like a knot.

"I don't know Pats. Something else might have happened, you could have self destructed still and I wouldn't have been able to get through to you." Delia answered truthfully, letting her chest brush against the scratchy fabric of Patsys jacket. It smelt of rain and bleach.

"I never meant to do that. To me you were the only one who always found a way in." Patsy said pressing her chin down onto Delias head gently.

"That's sad Pats, you should let more people in, not everyone wants to hurt you."

"You did." Patsy didn't accuse; the hurt was faint. Just a fact being spoken aloud. Delia pushed her face into the jacket more firmly wanting to kiss her.

"I know. I know I did but I didn't have a choice that I could see and leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever done. I didn't enjoy it, believe me." Delia said, her voice muffled by the fabric. Patsy expelled a loud breath and ran her fingers idly down Delias forearm. She traced the faint dip of an old scar, a momento from Delias childhood when she'd fallen out of a tree as a little girl. Would Patsy still remember the story?

"I spoke to the guy the night you turned up and it all went to hell, did you know that?" Patsy said suddenly. Breaking the companiable silence.

"No, what guy?"Delia asked her mind only half focused. The gentle stroke on her skin made her feel too content. Giving in wouldn't be too terrible she considered idly.

"The guy that Faith ran off with when she dissappeared. He rang her phone when I was looking through it. I used to do it a lot; just looking for something I missed, a face in a picture, I don't know. I told him she was dead and he laughed." Patsys voice burned with controlled anger. Delia bit her lip, hating how much she couldn't fix.

"I'm sorry." She said eventually; not knowing what else she could say.

"He just laughed like it was a big joke...' Patsys voice finally broke and she withdrew her hand to wipe her face angrily, 'I hate her for killing herself Delia. I hate that she gave up when she had so much to live for. I hate you for leaving. Sometimes I'm so angry at her, at you, I can't breathe because of it. My whole life just ended and I don't know what to do. I do understand why you left; I was hell to live with, I treated you badly but every time I see you it's all so complicated. Sometimes I want to pin you down for long enough to make you admit leaving was a mistake, I want to make you want me as much as I wanted you and the other half I just want to shout at you about it for leaving." Delia didn't move. They needed to be honest even if she hated hearing it.

"I know.' Delia squeezed her arms tighter for a moment reassuringly feeling the hardness of Patsys ribs. 'That's why I said no Pats, it would never be a good idea to throw in sleeping together because there's too much left there. I don't think we'll get out as well as we have a second time round. I know I wouldn't." She admitted embarrassed. Patsy nodded above her. 

"You were the best and worst thing that ever happened to me you know." Patsy admitted a little shyly. The hand had resumed its slow ministrations. 

"I know. I feel the same. It's hard being around you all the time; I really did think you were it for me back then and when you push like you did it's hard to refuse... But I really missed you Patsy, the good parts. You were my best friend for years. When you're not being an idiot and ignoring me I can't help but feel nostalgic about it. You have good points though it pains me to admit it." Patsy paused for a moment appearing to consider before sniggering unexpectedly.

"So you were tempted at least a bit." She asked happily. Delia pulled her face away to look at the woman exasperated. She looked a touch too smug. Delia emphasised rolling her eyes so that Patsy saw. 

"Patsy I'm not made of wood and you're... very attractive but I would want something more from you. I couldn't do something casual; I could try and it would be fun at first but when in comes to you I wouldn't be able to compartmentalise like that. You'll always be significant." Patsys smirk faded although she still looked cheered.

"I understand.... so you think I'm pretty?" Delia shot a sideways look at the red head taking in the sharp planes and features, the wide blue eyes and long legs stretched out in front of them. Delia felt as though something was stuck in her throat.

"Patsy you're beautiful, you always have been. Finding you attractive wasn't the problem." Patsy cocked her head to smirk at Delia biting her lip.

"Does it make me a child that I feel better knowing you were a little tempted?" Delia shook her head and slapped Patsys arm lightly.

"Yes. Yes it does. But if we're going for childish then I need to apologise for calling you a lanky narcissist with a Peter pan complex." Patsy frowned uncomprehendingly.

"Delia; you didn't call me that." 

"I did. Several times last night in my head. Shouted it in fact." Delia said cooly. Patsy looked a little taken aback before laughing nervously. Delia felt her lips twitch against her will. 

They both stared at each other.

"Will we be alright?" Patsy asked eventually a hint of a nervous energy making her fingers twitch. Delia smiled grimly.

"We'll get there I think. When you're upset you're a nightmare Patsy. All I'm going to ask is that you talk to me properly if somethings bothered you. I'll do the same and hopefully we won't have to do this too often."

"I'll try. And if not I'll give you fair warning." Patsy said, only half joking if the serious set to her eyes were anything to go by. Delia sighed.

"I think that's the best either of us can hope for." Patsy smiled as she patted her pocket absentmindedly.

"I need a smoke... I won't be long though. Maybe we could talk about other things... You never did tell me about Wales." Patsy said shyly. Delia felt her heart shiver.

"I'd like that." Delia answered brightly. They both smiled for a moment feeling the change in the air. A sort of clearing of atmosphere.

Delia watched the red head leave the room pulling a cigarette to her mouth from her place on the bed fondly.

After a few minutes when the sound of Patsys footsteps had died away Delia turned back to her pack which still needed a few little personal tweaks. She focused on her task for the next hour and only the flies on the wall witnessed the secret smile that flitted across her features every now and again.

It would be better now she knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... so we've now done arguments between these two and then a bit of tampons and tears. Plus some action, note the mines people. Personally, I'm crap at talking about feelings at length in real life but jeez these two really needed a chat...
> 
> I listen to a lot of music when I write. I'm actually sad enough to have a playlist for this pairing. This one was a mix of faith by George Michael and issues by Julia Michaels 
> 
> Hope everyone's spent the day in the sun drinking whatever they can!
> 
> SB


	22. He's spat at us with bullets and he's coughed Shrapnel

The next month was possibly the hardest and easiest time Delia had lived through.

Patsy and her were finally on some kind of track. The ghosts banished somewhat by their conversation gave them both the opportunity for breath. Delia couldn't help but feel vaguely stunned by the way they interacted because of it. They'd never struggled to work together as such back in the day but this was something else.

They worked like one mind if a causality was brought to them. Seeming to read one anothers thoughts rendering the valuable time used to speak better spent on their tasks.

This dedicated approach seemed to soften the others to their presence. Delia noticed a lowering of wolf whistles when going around camp and even Juno had been seen acknowledging them with a subtle nod when they sat together to eat.

This newfound closeness was such a positive Delia couldn't help but feel happy when she woke up and looked over to see Patsy sleeping or holding a cup of tea or changing. The domesticity of their living arrangement was the one thing neither voiced lest the ease of the moment be scared away.

Delia began to love the crooked camp. Patsys closeness made it feel like home.

Perhaps Patsy had picked up on it too. She seemed more casual than Delia had seen her in years. She laughed as though she'd rationed them and was finally cashing them in. She was more touchy than Delia recalled. Her hands crept to touch Delias hands, her wrists, her back as they walked through doorways. Each time never failed to make Delias heart jolt.

This new Patsy was far harder to turn down even if she never outwardly offered again. Patsy just being around was an offer.

In contrast the time away from camp was living hell. Every outing packed with tension and danger. When she was left in camp and Patsy was out the wait was a kind of torture. Delia struggled to cope with the wondering, the not knowing.

Seperately the two nurses had looked in on a few towns inhabitants including the pregnant girl.

She'd looked like a wilted flower picked too soon. Her cheeks had been hollow, the smudges under her eyes black and bruised. The tiny frame made sick looking by its great jutting belly protruding between visible individual ribs.

Delia had done her best but couldn't get her to say who had done this thing to her. Eventually she'd settled for handing out vitamins, pamphlets and conducting a battery of blood tests that had thankfully come back eventually negative for STIs.

On a cold morning at the beginning of February Delia and Patsy were sat outside the stables. The sun shone like a weak yolk and they'd taken to resting on a pair of sun loungers procured from God knew where while sipping their morning tea.

A well timed care package from her mother meant that the colour of their drinks were a satisfying brick brown and neither spoke too much as they relished the taste of Britain.

Their companiable silence was ended when Captain Dyer sped up to them. Delia frowned at the womans expression.

"Captain! Do you want a brew?" Patsy asked convivially. Tea tended to take her that way. Dyer shook her head firmly.

"Grab your kit, we're heading out"

"Now?' Delia looked at Patsy curiously at the sudden interruption. They weren't due out for another few hours. 'Okay, I'll grab my bag amd meet you-" But Dyer spoke over her.

"I want both of you. I want everyone out of here in an hour. Pack your bags and the stretcher. News just hit. The Russians are trying to break through the line. There's a large armoured contingent resting about an hour away. The cavalry will be coming after us but we'll need to guide them in. Chances are we might be spotted and I want everyone together. The lads are suiting up. I want you two in full gear; I know its a ballache tracking about in it but if it stops a bullet you'll be relieved. Also had authorisation for bayonets. Grab one from Paxo; he's handing them out." Dyer looked tight lipped and stressed. The two nurses looked at one another horrified.

"But if we're just doing recon why do we need bayonets?" Asked Patsy apprehensively, her body shifting to point in Delias direction protectively while her eyes stayed glued to the frazzled captain. Dyer sighed and rocked on her heels.

"Because I'm the bloody captain Mount and I'm telling you to take bayonets thats why. Now, get your shit together and meet the others at the gates. Both of you." Dyer, usually a calm woman turned obviously agitated was enough of a surprise that it silenced any further questions entirely and with a final cursory glance the captain turned away stiffly and marched back over the snowy ground towards the barracks. Delia and Patsy watched her go without speaking.

Only when the rigid khaki back had dissappeared behind the corner did Patsy turn to Delia sounding slightly panicked.

"I haven't packed my kit yet, I was going to do it while you were out." Delia swiped a hair from her suddenly sweaty forehead feeling her heartbeat stutter as she slowly realised how big a potential nightmare they were being ordered to attend.

"Mine is, we'll do it quickly, the stuffs all sterilised... Bayonets means close contact fighting doesn't it?" Delia eyed Patsys form fearfully; struggling to envision Patsy fighting a faceless soldier to the death. Some giant baring down on her. Her previously racing heart seemed to skip. Patsy was biting her lip as she turned to the stables.

"I can't think about it" She muttered to the space in front of her quietly. Together they walked to the stables. Quickly falling into a familiar rhythm. Delia passed, Patsy packed. The task shared took considerably less time. 

Then came armour. Kevlar vests, shin pads, helmet, gloves. Back armour slid over heavy shirts and tucked hidden beneath bulky jackets. Delias fingers shook slightly as she bent to secure the straps on Patsys back armour. She hated this.

Patsy returned the favour, stalling only when she placed Delias helmet securely on her head, leaning closer to tighten the chin strap. Delia could have done it herself they both knew but neither voiced this fact. Patsys finger rubbed lightly at the strap slowly staring at Delia.

"Be careful out there." She said finally looking troubled. Delia didn't laugh; she knew Patsy was truly scared and merely took the hand at her chin momentarily to squeeze it tightly.

"You too." She said quietly. Patsy nodded and they bent to throw their packs on their bags. The sheer weight was immense; they usually avoided heavy armour for that very reason. Heavy weight slowed everyone down. That Dyer thought it necessary today was telling.

Patsy, as the taller of them, chivalrously volunteered to take the stretcher alone but after a pointed look from Delia gave in and they balanced it between them. Though it was lightweight now a body added to their load was going to be a problem. Delia imagined having to carry Patsy back on it. Dead and cold. She shuddered and nearly dropped the damned thing. Patsy didn't comment on her uncommon clumsiness, locked in her own thoughts as they walked silently to the barracks.

Chaos ruled the space. Men shouted to one another. Bayonets were dropped on the floor. Helmets rolled away from clumsy fingers. Someone had started camo and a few faces were stained eery shades of grey and white. Paxo nodded at them and passed along two bayonets over a cot full of ammunition boxes. Empty boxes at that Delia noted.

Wordlessly Delia bent and snagged a few still full boxes and passed them to Patsy who began to load her rifle with an expression of a houseproud woman taking a dead rat from her kitchen. Delia did the same feeling the oiled springs bounce as she click clacked around in the chamber.

She pocketed another box just in case.

"Right girls get cammed up. You two should be good at this crap." Called Juno from Patsys elbow. In his hand were four thick panstick cream makeup sticks.

Patsy took them sighing and Delia looked at them glumly. This stuff was a pain to get off and lay on the skin like a sheet of plastic. Smelled like shit aswell. No amount of baby wipes was going to prevent spots by the end of the day. Patsy was already rubbing the grey around her cheeks and above her eye. Delia started at her neck, working up.

Shape, shadow, shine, silhouette, spacing.

Patsy dabbed the other colours around the darker. Breaking up the strong lines of her face until she appeared like an unpainted mask. Delia couldn't look much better. They're eyes met as they both took in the change. Blue to Blue in a sea of white. Delia grinned.

"Never wanted you more." She deadpanned. Patsy stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes as someone else reached for the makeup grumbling about 'fucking gay boy territory.' The two women broke apart. Helping those who had yet to don their own kit.

Delia managed to then spend a trying five minutes relooping a soldiers back armour. Honestly? Who undid it completely?

Dyer entered the room looking raith like just as the final few men were dabbing the face paints onto their faces gingerly. Dark hair hidden by white helmet. Face chalky and pale. Painted hands holding rifle and sword that glimmered in the artificial light.

Delia glanced around and couldn't help but find the squad infinitely more intimidating. They looked like some weird tribe going on a hunt. A reverse set of minstrals all bristling with pointed edges. They looked like killers.

She supposed though that was an accurate description.

"Gather in chaps, I want everyone to listen." 

Bodies pressed into a tight circle. Dyer in the center looking around at them. No one laughed. No one breathed loudly. The world encircled only them, only the squad and their mission.

"I know you all will have heard snippets. The truth is that no one knows entirely what we're walking into. What we know is this; early this morning the village Doprich was attacked. There were forty inhabitants, aerial views tell us there was an almighty bonfire, lots of bodies burned. It's assumed there may only be a few survivors if they're lucky. The convoy is large; a few armoured vehicles and at least one tank. Good news for us is that its seen better days; again going from satellite intel HQ think its a tiger. A few volleys from our aircrafts should deal with that. Our task is to give direct feedback of their position and numbers. I have been advised to interact only as a last resort. It seems likely the envoy will be carrying some serious weaponry because they're foot soldiers aren't packing a great deal. They're tired; up all night and they'll be more vulnerable now than later. We will come in from the west and watch from a hilly spot that should be harder to spot from their patrol. All going well we'll guide the bombers in and come home. If not it might become a free for all. In the event that the majority of us are killed then survivors should make their way back to camp and make contact with Deprechen. You are at no point allowed to abandon your posts. Corporal Lewis will remain in camp with Langley, Scott and Millet. They'll take stag and be waiting in the towers for our return. Is all of this understood people?" Dyer didn't shout, her voice was tense but calm, her eyes stormy running from face to face as though looking for something.

Delia considered the remaining crew. Lewis was a dark haired NCO, cheerful and go lucky, Langley was a serial complainer, Scott a hypercondriact and Millet had busted his knee a week ago. Dyer had chosen wisely and kept the home stayers to a minimum but those who would struggle to pull the trigger were not coming with them.

She expected a real fight then.

The next half an hour was a blur. The squad walked through the gates. Delia saw Lewis leaning against the machine gun at the east tower, shades covering his eyes but an unmistakable sag in his shoulders told her he was dissapointed not to be included. No one wanted to be left on baby sitting duties. Patsy stayed close beside Delia, the stretcher hung between them. 

Never before had Delia endured such a harsh march. No one spoke to each other. The only noise allowed was the crunch of boots on snow. Their breaths smoked from nostrils and mouths and even that seemed dangerous somehow as though the very air they took in might mark them all out as they made their way towards uncertainty.

They circled the spot Dyer had picked out slowly. Wending around any open fields as they closed in on their position. The steady incline of the hill was a killer, the weight of the pack and the situation made everything seem harsher somehow and Delia was sweating by the time they approached the summit. She nervously wiped at her slimy cheeks; worried her camo would melt off in the damp.

The spot chosen was a dip at the point of a high hill carved smooth by sheer rock. The snow was here too, thicker since it was higher ground and small flakes still peppered the air sporadically. Looking over the rim they all cautiously peered between crevices and low places to see the land below.

There were no tyre marks or footprints down there. Either the Russian contingent hadn't come through yet or they'd taken another route. As one man the squad turned to Dyer and Paxo for instructions. Paxo was tapping on his screen and waved a flat hand perpendicular to the floor hurriedly at them all while Dyer peered at the handset over his shoulder.

Get down the hand told them.

They did so. Laying on snow or rocks or crouching side by side in a long line. Close up Delia thought they were obvious but from a distance the camouflage kit and camo faces would render them almost invisible to unfriendly eyes. Delia felt snow melt against her stomach and chest.

This was going to get very very cold.

Dyer crept down the line, whispering to a few at a time before moving on. She came to Delia and Patsy who were leaning close in a gap between too boulders. Neither looked around as Dyers prescence was heralded by harsh breathing.

"They're on their way, four vehicles then foot soldiers, two cargo trucks and the tank at the back. You two are to aim for the guys walking on foot. If we're made before the choppers come in I want as many of those bastards wounded as possible. They'll have picked their best; don't show mercy, if you think you need to shoot then do it. We'll sort out the paperwork later. With a bit of luck they'll pass us. There's a mine field ahead, we might clear them all out in one swoop." 

Delia gulped and stared at the side of Patsys head. She couldn't make out the womans expression fully but the set of her shoulders was stiff. Delia waited until Dyer had stepped away before reaching out to touch Patsys hand. Wanting the comforting weight of her hand in a suddenly hostile environment. Wordlessly, as though she'd been waiting for Delia to do it all along, Patsy squeezed Delias fingers tightly.

She didn't let her go.

They stayed linked like this until the first rumble of cars broke them apart. Fingers reached to crook around triggers. Everyones eyes lowered to run concordant with their individual line of sight down the barrels of their rifles.

The large wheeled vehicles slowly spread along the invisible route. Behind them a group of thirty men walked in a V formation. Each held a rifle in their hands. Delia spotted revolvers tucked against sides and one or two carried short fat knives at holsters above their ankles. Their boots looked poor quality and several stumbled through heavy drifts.

Delia swallowed loudly as she picked out a man at the back of the pack. He looked young; his blonde hair shone in the white light. Delia could see dimples in his cheeks. Another soldier bumped his arm as they crossed and the man smiled cheekily and crossed his eyes. Smiling at his friend.

Delia wished she hadn't seen it. Enemies weren't meant to have friends. They weren't meant to be humans to them. And yet that was exactly what he was; a human being. She couldn't kill him. She hadn't become a nurse to kill anyone. The fight against natural instincts rubbed at her, made her grit her teeth as she willed the soldiers not to see the squad watching them from above.

Be stupid. Be blind. Stay alive. Delia chanted the order in her head as the line of Russians wandered carelessly across the swathe of land. Unaware they were one misstep from being shot down.

After ten minutes Delia let out a deep breath. Their quarries were beginning to drift out of sight, the back of the blondes head growing fainter as they moved away. Delia turned to watch the striped tank trundle over the ground at the back.

She could hear rattling. A sort of woop woop noise. Was that what a tank sounded like? It looked old, perhaps-

Delia turned suddenly, realising belatedly what the noise was. At the far end of the line Dyer was connected to a phone, there was an unmistakable flash of metal tucked beneath her chin, whispering quietly. From the sky specks were travelling at speed towards them. Delia watched them approach open mouthed.

Something red flashed from the sides of the planes and then the far off noise of screams could be heard faintly over the rumble of aircrafts overhead. 

The tank was cranking, the barrell being slid upwards, pointing towards the sky and then a deafening boom engulfed them. A huge missile was shot upwards. Delia followed its passage and watched a bomber swerve around, arching slowly in the air and then curving back. It fired an answering volley and one of the shots hit their mark.

The tank exploded outwards scattering its metal debris far and wide. Gawping and shocked Delia stared as a twisted blackened wreck of a body crawled away. The man, the driver, the human who had been trapped momentarily in the tin can of a machine crawled on his hands and knees a few steps and then collapsed.

Delia felt an insane urge to run down the hill to him, to try and work on him somehow but restrained it. Years of nursing experience told her that burns of that magnitude coupled with shock and drastic injuries from being expelled at such speed would mean he had minutes no matter what she did.

None the less she couldn't restrain from watching the figure twitch sickeningly for perhaps thirty seconds longer before falling still and unmoving. She only managed to look away when Patsy tugged at her arm and broke the spell she had been under.

"They're driving them west. We've got to follow. Come on." Patsy urged quietly already getting stiffly to her knees. The cold made Delia clumsy as she hurried to follow instructions. The pack was reslung, the rifle clutched to her sodden chest as she staggered along the trampled path.

The squad was moving quicker now. Adrenaline and fatigue warred as they followed Paxo and Dyer down the hill. The smell of burnt gun powder pervaded the air. Made it rotten as they got closer to flat ground.

Up ahead a dark column of thick smoke told them where they were heading. The ten minute crouching walk was filled with people jumping at noises. Everyones senses on high alert in case a Russian had broken off and was waiting for them.

They fell upon the scene in a mass huddle. The group circling together pointing outwards as they took in the smouldering wreckage.

Bodies. Lots of them. 

Delia saw smoldering vehicles over turned and burning still. Clearly the source of the acrid smoke. Human bodies were scattered everywhere like discarded skittles in a bowling alley. A few had fallen in a tangled heap of arms and legs near the center. As they drew nearer Delias foot hit something soft and the object rolled away making her flinch. Looking down she saw a blonde head severed from its body a few feet away. She'd seen the face already; her mark from minutes before...

For a moment they all stared at the dead, forgetting even fear in the face of the horror. There was a clunk as Paxo stowed away his pad to the depths of his pack. The time for tech was gone. This was a human matter.

"Get their tags if they have them. HQ can send it to the Russians with our compliments' Said Dyer a trite shakily to the squad, 'check for anyone living. Busby and Mount check the pulses or whatever; we might have a few yet to leave this world. Nobody get complacent, just because they look dead doesn't mean they all are." 

Delia walked numbly towards the large pile of bodies and reached out to touch the first neck and wrist she came to. Patsy mirrored her a bit further away.

No pulse. No pulse. No pulse. Faces and bodies flashed past Delias vision as she worked steadily to seperate the bodies out. It would be impossible when rigamortis set in. Her hands soon dripped with dark claggy blood. 

They worked for hours it seemed. Laying out bodies side by side. Pulling tags from stiffening necks while Paxo followed them slowly; photographing the scene looking stony as the shutter clicked again and again. Eventually every body had been counted. Final count; 47 including the tank driver. Delia felt sick, her face stiff from cold and exertion.

She thought of going back to barracks. Eating, sleeping, living somehow after seeing this. She wasn't entirely sure she could; the concept suddenly alien and unlikely. She bent from one body, rubbing her lower back wearily as she glanced up and down the line. There were so many bodies. 

Then she saw something that hade her blood run cold. At the very end of the line she could see Juno spreading a bodies legs flat; the air left her as another soldier ran up and kicked the dead mans groin hard. The body flopped feebly at the blow.

Without conscious thought she found herself charging at Juno. Strong arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back tightly.

"Don't, they're not worth it." Patsy was holding her tightly, her voice anxious in Delias ear. Delia gnashed her teeth furiously.

"Did you see what he just di-" She snarled watching Juno make a joke to his friends. Patsy only tightened her grip.

"Yes I saw but the way their feeling he might try to fight you. Look at them; they're all high on adrenaline and so are we." Delia said nothing, just let her eyes skim across the squad warily. Patsy was right; the eyes ranged around them were bright and keen. Too bright.Too keen. Like a fire had been lit behind every lens. Slowly, she sagged and felt Patsys grip loosen as she did so.

"They're all dead Pats." Delia whispered solemnly, wanting to say it if only to stop it feeling like a dream. Patsy coughed loudly and stepped into Delias line of sight.

"I know... I want to go home." Delia watched her mutely. Patsy sounded exhausted, her eyes dark and despondent. Delia reached out to clasp her should but froze as Dyer stepped forward once more.

"Alright guys, HQ have advised we get back to camp. Mission complete. We'll take a slow jaunt back and then everyone needs to eat and sleep. There's a mine field ahead so we'll get to the edge and go along it. Keep your eyes sharp; remember, we're not home until the gates shut is that understood?" 

There was a vague reply of 'yes ma'am' from around the field as people began to take up their packs once again. Delia felt taken aback as she watched the others move away.

Like it didn't matter...

Patsy seemed to struggle lifting her pack. Exhaustion making her weaker. Delia bent down to help even as she too felt a twinge of pain in her back. A rest would be nice...

The return march seemed shorter somehow. They weaved carelessly through thickets and snow piles certain the danger had passed. To Delias irritation everyone seemed unnaturally high and jolly. She wanted to scream at them for their candor.

The mine field came all too soon. A sea of red dots sprayed row upon row before them. 

Only when they had all began to dawdle down the border did the atmosphere change with a single word.

"Movement." 

Someone yelled it loudly and it was as though a secret sign had been called. Everyone fell to their knees instinctively; peering all around for the intrusion.

"Other side of the field. Targets a Russian by the look at his kit." Delia stared as a bloody shape staggered around the field in large circles. Someone alive was in the center of the minefield. How long this fact would remain true was hard to tell. It was a miracle the man hadn't hit a pressure pad yet...

"He's going to get killed." Delia muttered to no one in particular. No one answered her or gave a sign they'd heard though she'd spoken loudly enough.

"I could hit him from here." Murmured Paxo looking questioningly at Dyer rifle in hand. Dyer was staring at the swaying man who had finally turned and was walking towards the squad in a drunken sort of stoop. Delia squinted at him fearfully.

"We need to help him." She said a little louder. Again, she was ignored. 

"Captain what's your orders?" Asked Juno tightly from close by also looking down his rifle. Dyer still did not answer looking torn. Delia shuddered as she saw something white covering the mans arm. A white flag? That meant they had to help surely? She lowered her weapon and bag hastily. Staring at the man. 

Any minute now he was going to stand on something and blow himself up and then what? Could Delia live knowing she'd done nothing? The decision was made when the man stumbled and nearly fell on a patch of red. Swearing loudly, Delia broke rank.

She moved so quickly no one had time to stop her although she heard Patsys panicked voice shout;

"Delia, No!"

Delia almost tripped as she sprinted through a clear space of snow a little way into the field.

"Wait!" 

Delia could only hope the desperate catch in her voice made up for her complete lack of Russian. From somewhere behind her someone cursed loudly. Ahead of her the man let the white flag slip through his fingers and flutter to the floor in a heap.

His gaze zeroing in on the lone British soldier coming towards him without a weapon. Slowly, very slowly, he lifted his face to look around as though surprised by the size of the response blinking back at him. Through the staining blood on his face his eyes glittered like the shine off fallen angels wings.

Too late to do anything but stiffen Delia noticed what the white of the fabric had hidden. The evil gaping mouth of a small hand revolver jutted out from the crook of his elbow nestled in a twisted wreck of a hand. 

Someone shouted.

Delia had a split second to bend her head as she took in the sight of the mans face changing as it cleared of everything; fear, pain or doubt and then the world was nothing but a small point of pain.

The gun went off. Once. One shot.

Delia felt her legs twirl as though she was dancing somehow and a flower of agony blossomed at her temple, the sheer force of it shunting her to the floor in a sprawling skid.

The air clanged heavily as her helmet was shot off her head. The ting of the metal rang eerily loud as Delia tried to focus. Her vision swirled as she desperately fought to twist and bring the assailant into view. Somewhere a woman was screaming, the men were shouting, guns were spraying out bullets and Delia watched as the man who'd shot at her staggered, his arm hanging out from him in a stiff line as the missiles plunged through his chest like hot knives in butter. Blood spewed out like a bust pipe, turning the snow scarlet in a fine spray behind him.

Delia managed to pull herself up, her vision flickering as the man fell to his side heavily, face disquietingly calm. The weight of his body made a dull thump on the floor. His twitching chest covering a wide red circle in its entirety.

Someone shouted a word, spat it out bitterly as everyones eye was drawn to the mark of the mine stolen from view.

Time seemed to slow down, every second burning down Delias spine like a dripping tap as the ground rippled and burst apart before her. There was an eery absence of sound, the world seemed to be sucking in a breath instead as the mans body was immolated entirely; each tongue of violent flame stroking up his body like a caress. The limbs splayed out and cracked sickly in its grips.

And then Delia was thrown back again, her skull slamming onto the ground harshly; the explosion finally spreading out from itself, flinging the air like knives at them all as a deafening boom shuddered the ground.

And the light... The light was pink. It was so pink. Why was it so pink? The sun was blocked out as the universe centered around the scent of burning flesh. The world was on fire. The mist scorched over Delia; filling her mouth, clogging up her eyes and ears as tiny sharp somethings peppered her face. Bone. Delia curled up as the floor trembled, the lids of Delias eyes were filled with bright spots of light.

Her face was pressed into the curve of her hands, her legs curled up to her chest as the blast began its inevitable domino effect. The ground was jumping, there were more bright flashes of light left and right, more booms, more fire. The world was on fire. The world was burning and Delia was going to die. It seemed so pointless; all her life had led to her being curled up in a frozen field waiting to be destroyed.

More booms, Delias entire body felt taught, the muscles screaming at her to prepare for the inevitable. The blasts were everything. She was going to die.

Fuck! 

She was going to die. 

Delia fervently hoped it was quick. Her mother was never going to get over this. Her father was going to lose his wingman, his garden would become a token to the child he no longer had and Patsy. God Patsy. Patsy was...

Here? Patsy was close, her voice high and stressed as thick arms scrambled around Delias waist and heaved her backwards. Delia was vaguely aware of being dragged, her shirt was riding up, cold hard earth scraping her back but there wasn't any pain. Delias body was strangely rigid, she couldn't feel it properly. Couldn't see either. Her eyes were closed tightly.

Was this a joke? Was she already dead and this was somewhere else? Patsy would be in her heaven... Was this what dying felt like? Patsy was shouting her name. The hands were ice cold.

Fingers pressed to Delias neck, to her wrist. Another was trying to make her move, to relax onto her back but Delia couldn't. Her muscles seemed to be made of iron or something equally as unyielding. There was so much noise. The explosions were everywhere, each fresh gust of heat forced Delia to resist the hands will. 

"Delia it's alright. Open your eyes, you need to tell me where it hurts." Delia wanted to answer the voice, wanted to open her eyes but nothing was working properly. Her knees were pressing into her stomach, her feet were cramping. But still no pain. Her skin was burning, everything was boiling. Her blood was liquid fire, her heart was a single point of heat. And why wouldn't it be? The world was still burning. It wasn't alright. If everything was alright then why was the light still pink?

"Delia open your eyes. Now!" Delia couldn't obey. Her body was frozen in defiance. There was so much heat and nothing hurt and the hands were spots of cold. The world was dying. She couldn't move.

More voices. Jostling. Someone swore.

"Move out the way!"

"She's going into shock, we've got to get her up!"

"I'm the nurse, not you! She could have internal damage so get off her and let me work."

"She's my friend."

"Well she's my gi- patient so move your carcass out of my way because if she dies and I couldn't get to her I'm throwing you into the mine field along with the Russians Bassett."

"Jesus. I'm only trying to help."

Patsy didn't even bother replying. Delia could feel fingertips tracing her forehead.

"Deels I know you're scared but you need to open your eyes sweetheart, you need to show me a few signs of life." Delia could feel something brimming from a place behind her teeth. A kind of screaming buzz, she could feel Patsys hand following down her face to check her pulse for a few seconds. Could practically hear her brain turning as she breathed raggedly. 

Her girl always good in a crisis. She had always been good in the moment.

Except Delia was in the crisis and she couldn't move. Her body had locked down and even Patsys voice couldn't bring her back. 

The air had been so pink....

Patsys knuckles rubbed hard on Delias collar and Delia flinched involuntarily. Her eyes snapping open by tiny increments. Patsys face was white as she came into focus an inch away. Her blue eyes criss crossed across Delias face but her face seemed outwardly still otherwise. Her lips were pressed together tightly in a dark line.

"Where does it hurt?" Patsys voice was like an anchor. Delia stared at her uncomprehendingly. Her lips couldn't move; frozen. Patsy looked like she might cry as she wiped a palm down the side of Delias face. It was stained with blood when she brought it back. 

"Delia, you need to talk to me sweetheart. Where hurts?" Patsy was vibrating in the air. Delia frowned not understanding why until she realised it wasn't Patsy who was shaking. It was her, she was shivering violently.

Adrenaline and shock said her inner nurse. Sugar, something warm and sleep would fix it. If she could move again. It seemed unlikely right now. Patsy was still watching her hawk like, concern and fear marring the pretty face. With effort Delia managed to loosen her lips slightly, the words she spoke were muffled. Her teeth hurt.

"Pats?" At the sound Patsy seemed to sag, her breathing became harsher as relief washed her features. Delia spotted the tiny wobble on her bottom lip dully.

"Only you could run into a mine field." Said Patsy weakly clutching Delias wrist tightly. Too tightly. Her eyes were burning. The world was burning. 

"I fell over" Delia whispered. Her teeth were chattering as the cold snow seeped into her clothes. The hand at Delias wrist was squeezing so hard there'd be a bruise. Delia knew it and yet she couldn't feel it properly. Everything was behind glass. Her head was pounding. Patsy seemed to choke, maybe she'd tried to laugh but it wasn't funny. 

The air had been pink.

"Yes. You fell down. I thought... I thought you might not get back up." Patsy truly was shaking now. Delia let her legs slowly uncurl from their tight protective featus position. They twitched uselessly but she could move them. That was good news at least. Patsy watched it professionally; checking out the limbs range carefully.

"Where hurts Delia?" Patsy couldn't stop the dread in her voice as she asked again. She was looking at Delia as though she thought the worst... But that wasn't right. Delia had just fallen down. Delia wasn't dead. It was the man- the man was dead. He was dust and blood. The air wasn't full of Delias body parts and blood. 

The man had...

It had been so pink. So much blood.

Delia considered her body slowly; it felt like it had been hit with a truck. A big truck, one of those motorway arctics. With people in it. Fat people at that. Delia frowned as she flexed her fingers experimentally.

"Everywhere?" She hazarded blithely and Patsy blinked as she looked at her furiously. The eyes were too shiny but she managed a tight smile.

"Well... That's probably a good sign.' Again she brushed her palm along Delias face bringing back more filth from there. Patsy looked at it hard. 'It's not yours." Her tone was grim but she seemed satisfied. Delia felt her muscles flail and shake her. Everything was becoming cold.

Shock and adrenaline. Shock and adrenaline.

She needed to move around.

Groaning she tried to sit up but fell back immediately as nausea made her dizzy. Turning on her side she emptied her stomach on the snow beside her. Patsys cold hand rested on the back of her neck. Refusing to move away.

"Its going to be okay sweetheart." She murmured softly. Delia didn't believe it. The world had been on fire. Delia was a block of ice. She didn't think she could feel better again and it was so very cold. She didn't even flinch when Patsy pulled her back to sitting slowly and wrapped a scratchy blanket around her tightly. 

Made her move each limb one by one. Extend and flex. Checked her pupils. Probably a concussion she'd said steadily.

The words seemed meaningless. Delia was numb to it all. Even when Dyer approached and asked if she was OK to return to camp. Even when she stood up and vomited again. Even when Patsy wrapped her arms around her waist and pulled her onwards. Even when the ground swirled before them. Even as the smoke faded away as they left the site. Even as the gates to the camp drifted up ahead. Even when Patsy forced her into the stables and took a barrage of stats. Even when she was forced to swallow glucose tablets and sugary tea and half a bacon sandwich. Even when she had to remove her shirt and Patsy pulled out bits of bone that had lodged in the soft skin of her neck and hands and cleaned out cuts with antiseptic.

Numb.

...The world had been on fire...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahem, hope everyone wasn't expecting fluff this chapter lol
> 
> Apologies if it looks rough,I keep rereading it and trying to tweak but I didn't want to lose the main bits and I was close to deleting and starting again.
> 
> FYI next chapters NSFW
> 
> SB


	23. We chorused when he sang aloft

Delia felt the water, tepid and weak, splatter over her body dully. Her hands still shook as she ran them through her sopping wet hair, fingers combing through the the scrubby tips of the dark strands to wash off the remnants of her shampoo robotically. Foam puddled about her feet like a reminder of the snow that they'd all trudged through. The snow that was so many shades of black and red. Outside the shower tent the voices of the others laughing and shouting carried through the thin walls of the canvas and low grade plastic as mugs clinked together merrily. They were drinking alcohol she knew it.

She shuddered at their attitudes; repulsed. They all nearly die and an hour or so later they're playing pranks and messing about as though it had all been some kind of fun jaunt. It was sick. She thought she might actually vomit. Her body felt wired oddly, small sounds making her heart stutter as she set about pouring shower gel into her hand and spreading it over her body. She'd run out of her own stuff a few days ago so was using one of the more gentlemanly lads, the smell of lynx made her feel faintly sick as it swirled around her. Her legs shivered as though she'd been running, the warm water didn't seem to be removing the cold sweat on her back. 

The tent flap rustled as Patsy entered inside, she'd chivalrously offered Delia first refusal of the shower, not quite meeting Delias eyes. Delia couldn't blame her, she was certain she looked an absolute state. The brown stains over the white and grey camouflage had been awful when she'd stripped off. The water running over her was clean now, ten minutes after she'd entered, but at first it had been stained a horrible pink, the plastic plank floor was peppered with dirt yet to be sucked into the crudely carved hole that was the drain. 

Patsy cleared her voice, making her prescence known rather pointlessly. Delia wondered why she bothered. Delia always knew if Patsy was close by. She felt her hands shake like she'd developed a resting tremour there, adrenaline still cresting over her skin in icy waves. They could be dead right now... their bodies all piled up and covered in snow for next morning. The face of the soldier before his body exploded swam before Delias eyes, the light turned all pink and the smell of burning flesh. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

The water wasn't hot enough, Delia felt too cold, why the fuck couldn't she feel anything? Delia shook hearing the boom of the mine stun her again even as she pressed her face into the wall breathing through gritted teeth. Her lips felt swollen and her mouth tasted like metal. They could have all died in a matter of seconds. Someone had died and no amount of training or experience could do anything to help. Delia felt useless, limited, redundant.

As she let the water wash away the final splurge of shower gel Delia tried to stand straight but she couldn't make her limbs work. She needed to feel something harsh, she needed sensation to distract herself from this deadening of her insides. Behind the curtain Patsy coughed again and Delia stilled, droplets falling down her face as she stared sightlessly at the noise...Patsy. Patsy could help. She could make Delia forget what a cloud of human blood felt like on her skin. Delia wanted a break, she wanted to forget about the death and the danger. 

Delia licked dry, cracked lips nervously. She wanted it. Her body demanding to feel alive after such a close call to death. Patsys face as she looked up from the floor to shout for Delia flashed heavily behind her eyes; so much fear, so much pointless death. Shaking her head she tried to hold on to why she'd hesitated when Patsy had suggested they take a holiday from reason. The reasons had made sense she told herself, nothing had changed... except that it had. Delia was changed. She'd wanted this from the second she'd walked into Patsy at basic. She could admit it now. Right now the truth was a balm against the stark realities of her life.

They were tethered together, the string stretching through years and distance, always waiting to tug them closer once more. Patsy wouldn't turn her away, she understood Delia in a way that was just between them and Gods knew Delia was tired of holding herself back. 

She stared at the curtain covering the door of the cubicle... It was stupid to think that something as pointless as reasonable doubt should stop this surely. It was just sex after all. Delia liked sex, Delia had loved sex with Patsy. 

Hands still shaking but no longer because of the fire fight she slowly pulled the curtain away to reveal the outer room. Patsy was standing at the bench, a towel pulled about her respectably as she folded her clean clothes in a neat pile beside Delia's ruined kit. Delia allowed herself to stare at the graceful curve of her exposed back hungrily. She wanted to bite her way up it she realised with stunning clarity.

Delia cleared her throat quietly and watched Patsy turn, enjoying the play of emotions as she took in Delia, naked and wanting, framed by the doorway. Patsy managed to avert her gaze after a long moment, respectful and annoyingly chaste for once. The only sign she was affected was her chest rising somewhat erratically. Delia wanted to bury her face into the soft space between her shoulder and neck and never come up for air again, she wanted it like a low grade ache in her joints but restrained herself for the moment. It would happen she reasoned, her thoughts oddly clear of the fog she'd been in for the last few hours.

"Pats... I've changed my mind." 

Silence. The truth of the statement filling Delia up like hot air. Patsy seemed to recoil slightly in shock.

She was very pale, mouth straining as she allowed her eyes to run down Delia nervously. Caught off guard. Delia waited, chin held high; wanting Patsy to want this enough to initiate the final capture. Patsy remained where she stood, hands clenching and unclenching but not appearing ready to give any other signal of whether this abrupt offer was welcome or not. Her breathing was loud in the sudden silence, her nose flared as though she were scenting the air. Delia didn't think she was breathing at all anymore.

After another thirty seconds with nothing Delia was left dealing with a sudden, unpleasant, wave of trepidation. Had she gone too far? Oh God, what if Patsy turned her down? Slightly embarrassed now, she let her knees knock together, trying to appear slightly less provocative, vulnerable as she felt her nakedness more keenly. Why was the room still so cold? Patsy had drawn her gaze back up at the movement, her pupils very wide as she appraised Delia silently. Delia bit her lip.

Do it. Do something.

Hesitantly, as though doubting every step, Patsy finally nudged over to Delia, her hands opening slowly as though she was restraining the urge to grab and touch everywhere she could with some difficulty. Delia watched the fingers extend and detract numbly only flinching when, with a sudden burst of speed, as though a decision that had been considered was finally made, Patsy fumbled for the clasp of her towel. The knot falling apart in her clumsy fingers as the unwelcome fabric fell to the ground with a thud. They both stopped for a moment before daring to move again; knowing a line was being crossed but neither willing to stop it.

Patsy licked her lips as she stepped into the little cubicle a little more confidently. Hands reaching out to grip Delias hips firmly, fingertips digging in almost painfully. Delia stepped backwards blindly, tugging Patsy with her so that they were pressed together in the tight confinement of the cubicle.The shower curtain slid closed behind them with a soft swish. 

They didn't notice. 

Patsy was already pushing Delia back another step, flattening her body flush against the wall, her eyes dark. Delia let her head loll in wordless invitation and felt her body relax as her intreaty was met with the sting of teeth and lips at her jugular.

This was what she needed. 

This blind wanting feeling. Patsy knew it. She must know it. Delia hissed as she felt the skin burning where Patsys lips trailed, just fractionally too deep, too heavy. Perfect. She'd have bruises there tomorrow she knew. 

She would just add them to the bruises she'd already accumulated today. Who would notice a few more anyway?

Today. Oh God; today. She finally let herself quake, safe in the protective place surrounded by Patsy, at the startling reality that tomorrow would come for them. There would be a tomorrow for them. But not for everyone...

Delia shook her head again, warm hands were gripping her tightly. This. This was real. They weren't dead. Pats was living and breathing and real and they were doing something ridiculously stupid and this was exactly right and, and, and...

Patsy was breathing harshly, impossibly close. Delia thought she heard words whispered against her skin between messy kisses on her collar bone but they were far away, muted by the blood drumming in her ears. Legs were kicking her own apart hurriedly as she felt fingers glide through the moisture that was dripping from Delias slick heat. Testing for a second, Patsy groaned at the sensation, before thrusting up inside Delia almost harshly. No preamble, no teasing today. Neither of them really had the appetite for suspense at the moment. Delia felt her mouth hang open in a silent moan. It didn't hurt. It felt... It felt. Delia felt...

Delia canted her hips, wanting everything at once. She needed it fast, needed to feel something besides the terror and exhaustion. She felt Patsy shudder against her, felt the frantic shiftings of her arm as she blurred into Delia at speed. Delias breathing coming in frantic waves, wanting to stay here in this moment, until Patsy grunted by her ear and crooked her fingers without warning, her harsh breaths rumbling against Delias shoulder, rubbing just... just... Fuuuuck.

Delia wasn't aware she was talking, wasn't aware she was biting down on Patsys shoulder as her body fractured around her. Her legs buckled beneath them but strong arms kept her upright, still probing, still searching, still forcing her to keep going so that Delia lost herself in the moment. Patsys eyes burning into her own making her gasp.

Delias foot was twitching like mad somewhere below the press of them, the other scraping helplessly down the back of Patsys calf as she tried to impossibly open up further, needing anything Patsy had right now as her insides seemed to contract around the long fingers, trying to keep them as close as possible. Desperate for the moment not to end.

Coming down felt peaceful in a detached way, a sort of floating electrical pulse that made her limbs twitch. Delia realised her face was hot. She must have started crying somehow, the moment too heavy, emotions drowning her but the mist seemed to have hidden it. Patsy didn't seem to have noticed. Her long fingers were still curling inside Delia wonderingly, she was murmuring in her ear, her cheeks warm and soft against Delia's neck, her breath rattling across her skin making the hairs stiffen.

Delia tried to unfold her body slightly, she was clinging to the red head as though she was terrified of letting go. She felt her breasts rub on wet skin, little shocks running up through her nipples. They both panted as the now even more weak spray of water hissed over them. Patsy hair was stained shades darker, stuck to her face and cheek like fronds of weed in a pond. She looked like a painting, not completely real to Delias half closed eyes.

Delia let her heart beat slow slightly and felt herself gasp as Patsy withdrew the welcome stretch of her fingers and reached to stroke Delias cheeks greedily with the damp digits. Lips were soft as they gently brushed against Delia's forehead, at the place the bullet had missed by inches. Patsys eyes looking haunted for a moment as she did it. Delia shivered feeling the lingering kiss on her temple like a burn.

Belatedly Delia realised that she was not the only one scared. Patsys hands were full of wordless questions on her skin; are you OK... are you still here... please don't die. Delia wrapped her hands around the long neck, feeling the pulse jumping erratically beneath her palms. Trying to soothe but unable to be tender when her hands still shook so much. 

She placed soft reassuring kisses wherever she could; trying to wash the horror away without speaking. She felt Patsys arms shake as Delias lips brushed her cheek.

"You could have died... I nearly lost you" Patsy whispered hoarsely to the air in general. Her fingers stroking Delias rear convulsively.

"Shhh' Delia ran her hands along the nodes of Patsys back, 'but you didn't." She answered thickly. She didn't want to talk about this now, didn't want the two experiences linked.

For a few moments they kissed almost sweetly under the water. It felt so easy, so simple. There was no bumping of noses or chins, they were in sync, hands rubbed gentle circles. Patsy felt solid and blissfully familiar. 

But it wasn't enough. 

Patsy seemed content to bask now that she'd touched Delia, Delia herself was not. She needed to reclaim old territory, she wanted to feel Patsy fall apart under her hands too. She needed to know Patsy was really here because right now everything felt unreal; a sort of dream.

Breaking away slightly Delia pressed Patsy to the other wall with a hand on her chest, placing a reassuring peck on her lovers fingers. Patsy acquiesced to Delias demands easily but her breasts rose as her breaths deepened and she looked torn; perhaps she thought Delia would leave it at that. Return to their quarters and not speak of what they'd just done again.

She needn't have worried.

Delia dropped to her knees heavily, the bruises on her shins making her hiss as she connected with the floor but she paid it no heed; she had a purpose and she'd damn well finish it here and now. Scooting along on her hands and knees she crossed the floor quickly and let her hands stroke up the warm flesh of Patsys thighs slowly.

They were firm and solid under her ministrations although she thought she detected a faint tremor in them as she raised herself on her haunches to reach eye level with her destination. Delia clenched as she imagined these long legs pinned around her hips while she fucked Patsy into next week... it was an attractive thought. Later perhaps.

Delia smirked at the thought as she took in the mousy brown hair that revealed Patsy natural colour. She wouldn't tell. Casting a final glance upwards she was rewarded by a wonderful view through the V of Patsys cleavage of the red heads face, the lips trapped between teeth tensely and dark heavy lidded eyes staring at her beseechingly.

Perfection.

Delia brought her face closer to damp skin so that the heat that was burning from within Patsy warmed her face. She smiled as she blew a gentle breath onto the swollen flesh and felt, again, a gratifying shake in the legs she still stroked.

Licking her lips Delia pressed her tongue flat to the slit between the lips, dragging it across the bumpy terrain within, she felt hands drop to her shoulders as the woman she wanted to devour tried to support herself.

Patsy tasted just the same as she had years ago. Faintly tangy with just a hint of heaviness on Delias tongue from the proof of her excitement as she'd fucked Delia moments before. From the taste of it Patsy had very much enjoyed the experience. Luckily, Delia had a suspicion it would not be a one off occurance today. The wanting feeling flared again and Delia almost stood up and mounted the red head afresh, an ache bubbling up in her. Her thoughts scattering and confusing.

Discarding the appealing thought for the here and now Delia contented herself to leisurely reaquaint with Patsy, enjoying the bucking of hips that brought everything closer whenever she allowed herself to graze the rock hard clit. Lazily drawing circles on the sensitive skin with the pointed tip of her tongue. She'd forgotten how much she had loved this taste, it was intoxicating.

Eventually, Patsy seemed to tire of the teasing actions though and Delia felt hands wrap gently in her hair and pull insistently, a wordless plea to give Patsy what she desperately wanted. 

In retaliation Delia purposefully avoided anywhere too sensitive for a few minutes,a little revenge maybe for all of Patsys pushing perhaps, allowing her tongue to press instead into the small opening lower down and pulling more sweet thick wetness into her mouth greedily. Patsy groaned and bucked harder, trying to squirm her hips lower to bring Delias mouth up to where she needed it. Delia held the red heads thighs more tightly in response, preventing the movement. Undeterred from the restriction in her legs the hands pulled more intensively, trying to grind Delias face harder in Patsys wet heat. Delia, busy and distractable, tried to resist but after a particularly strong tug she felt her nose inadvertently flick against Patsys clit making the taller woman groan loudly.

"Delia; for Gods sake!" Patsy admonished breathlessly. 

Delia breathed deeply, wanting to imprint the taste and scents of the moment in her mind before giving in. She was being unfair she knew, it was just that she'd forgotten how good Patsy tasted. The hands tugged again pointedly and Delia sighed regretfully, she should be nicer...

Bringing her hand up from its resting place curving round Patsys arse cheek she slid two fingers into Patsys waiting entrance, her heart skipping as she felt the burning heat incase them to the knuckles. Bringing her mouth up she wrapped her lips around Patsys clit purposefully as she began pumping her fingers in and out, taking care to spread them slightly as she pulled out to scrape along the sensitive walls of Patsys insides just the way she used to like it.

Patsy keened loudly from above Delia, her head smacking loudly on the wall as her hands clutched Delias head to her groin without appearing to care anymore how hard she pulled. Her hips bucked wildly with the rhythm of Delias fingers as Delia kept on sucking and flicking her tongue. Delias arms were burning from the awkward position but she forced them to keep going at a heavy pace. The sound of flesh slapping together and Patsys cries filled the air, spurring her on.

Delia felt Patsys orgasm hit suddenly as a flood of wet heat splashed onto her chin violently, the space around her fingers tightened around them almost painfully as Patsy released her hands from Delias head to scratch at Delias back, the nails trailing heavily along her shoulder blades.

"Don't stop, don't fucking stop" Patsy was gasping, her voice high and pleading. Delia didn't know why she said it, there was no way she would stop now even if there was a gun pointed to her head.

Patsys legs finally gave way and she slumped to her knees, legs still splayed open with Delias arm positioned between them. Delia jerked away her face in time to be drawn into a crushing kiss, Patsys tongue pressing into her mouth demandingly. Their mouths cleaved together even as Delia found a new turn of speed, pounding at the soft flesh and hooking her fingers to brush the slightly rougher patch no bigger than a finger tip on the inner wall. She felt Patsy spasm in her arms, her face turning red as she gasped Delias name over and over again like a psalm.

Patsy bucked, mouth hanging open as she wrapped her arms around Delia frantically and bit into the soft flesh of her neck, marking Delia as she quaked. 

The flash of sudden pain and wonder of touching Patsy again like this, after so fucking long, was too much for Delia and she gasped before shamelessly pressing her own groin against Patsys juddering hip bone and ground herself into the hardness, feeling herself cumming all over again at the friction while Patsy milked her fingers harshly, both of them sucking air in desperately as bodies broke...

Outside the tent the soldiers carried on laughing as the faint noise of the water splashing onto a silicon mat sounded from within the shower block.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update on a Thursday. Who knew I could manage it lol 
> 
> This has been written for months now. Hopefully people dont think its crap *blushes *
> 
> You have a nice day now people
> 
>  
> 
> SB


	24. We whistled while he shaved us with his scythe.

Delia stirred as boots marched on gravel a little way off. Her eyes felt heavy, her limbs loose, as though they'd been pulled from their sockets. They sort of had she supposed muzzily, face pressed to sweaty skin.

They were laying on Patsy's cot. Naked, with a blanket thrown over their entwined legs. Patsy breathed gently into her ear, Delias head tucked securely underneath her chin.

They'd got back to the stables just as the water gave up the ghost, the shower head merely deigning to shoot out droplets in small pathetic spurts over their shaking forms. 

Patsy had let go of Delia long enough to half fall out the cubicle and grab a fistful of clothing before desperately thrusting limbs into appropriate openings. Her haste had been hampered by Delias inability to give up any more opportunities to touch Patsy. They'd been delayed in the end, Patsy half trapped by fabric as Delia messily took her again on the floor.

The walk to the stables had been agonising. They'd both barely prevented staggering as they passed a gaggle of laughing squaddies that had gathered alarmingly close to the shower block. Delia had waved jerkily when Billy had poked his head from the middle of the scrum to call her over but she didn't go any closer. Patsys hand had remained steadfastly at her lower back, guiding her home.

Delias heart had almost burst from her chest the second the door was closed to the outside world. The need to touch Patsy so strong she felt almost possessed. It was all she could do to take the final steps to drag Patsy onto a cot. The welcome weight of her body blinding Delia to anything else.

She had been drunk from kissing Patsy. The moment only ending as Patsy spoke both their thoughts against Delias lips.

"Too many clothes." 

They'd got there in the end. Delia couldn't quite recall ever feeling this sick with need. Her body seemed a stranger in its unending wants. Patsy seemed just as affected as Delias hands mapped out the body that had been gone from their reach for so long.

The evening had turned to morning surprisingly quickly as they both let instincts take over. 

Now, Delia could feel the heat and moisture pouring out of Patsy from their exertions smudging onto her thigh hotly where it rested snugly between the red heads legs. Patsy placed a gentle kiss to the side of Delias head, her body finally seeming to calm in the hazy post coital daze they were currently basking in. 

"We should have done that months ago." Delias words were gentle but faintly slurred, her brain still woozy from too many orgasms.

"Mmmm" Patsy seemed just as slow but amused.

"Why didn't we do this month's ago?" Delia felt a slight aftershock hit her as her vulva pulsed, the blood gradually receding back to its usual places in her body.

"Because we're idiots." Was Patsys prosaic response, her hands stroking Delia's back, tracing the curve of her spine.

"Definitely idiots' Delia agreed firmly as her body shook again, 'you're too good at this."

"We're both good at this. I think the word your thinking of is compatible". Patsys hands were creeping lower again, insatiable and Delia shuddered in longing to feel Patsy still wanting.

"Hmmm"

Patsy was pulling her closer and Delia pressed her leg harder to the swollen flesh, gratified to hear Patsy moan in her ear.

"You taste like I remember." Patsys admission was an honest one as Delia felt herself quake at the memory of what they'd just spent the last few hours doing.

"You are exactly like I remember." Delia whispered, her eyes picking out the tiny fine hairs on Patsys neck in the weak light. Patsy didn't need to know how much Delia had thought about her over the years but the red head still smirked cockily at her words; gleaming whatever truths, Delia couldn't tell, from her reply.

"I've wanted you ever since you barged into me outside the barracks dorm at Deepcut." The words struck Delia as she recalled their strained initial reunion.

The memory of why this was such a bad idea prodded at her, but she tried to ignore the thoughts. It was just sex. Even so, she struggled to think of an answer that would not tell Patsy how crazy about her Delia still was. The idea that Patsy could possibly view this experience as something casual made her head swim.

Perhaps some of her feelings were evident in her voice though as she answered, a little coldly;

"Well you got your wish." Patsy seemed to grow still around Delia. Her hands becoming lighter on Delia's skin.

"Are you regretting what we've done..." Her question seemed hesitant as though she was steeling herself for a rebuff, the hands withdrawing like she planned to leave. Delia pressed her hands to Patsy's face quickly forcing their eyes to meet, her voice firm.

"No, I wanted it. I want it. I want you.' she sighed wistfully, sure Patsy could never fully grasp how deep that statement went. 'It's not like we can go back now. I don't think I'd have been able to push you away for much longer anyway."

Patsy smiled softly at Delia's words and reached up to cup Delia's hands, her thumbs running along Delia's knuckles.

"I'm glad you don't regret this. I'd hate to think I'd forced your hand". Delia snorted, breaking the sudden tension.

"You couldn't do that.' Delia tapped her forehead lightly, 'stubborn streak remember". Patsy smiled fondly,

"I like your stubborn streak really.' Her face broke into a leer, 'makes it more fun when I get you to bend." Delia made a mock affronted face,

"Who says you can bend me?" Patsy smirked and resumed her previous squeezing.

"You did, about thirty minutes ago, or have you already forgotten?" Delia luxuriated in the feel of Patsys hands touching her without any hesitation.

"Hmm... well, sex is different, I don't mind bending a little in that situation."

"Noted"

"You're silly." Delia laughed and pressed her face to Patsy's shoulder, suddenly so happy she felt giddy. 

"Why am I silly Deel's?" Patsys mouth was hovering above Delia's right ear, her hands still sinking lower, questing.

"Just are." Was Delia's muffled reply as Patsys fingers found her wet entrance and teased around it, stroking the flesh knowingly. Delia sucked in calming breaths, not sure if she'd survive anymore stimulation.

"So are you" Patsy's answer was equally short, the smile still evident in her voice.

"We're a bunch of idiots."

"I think that's already been established." Her finger tips were just grazing Delia's opening, the sensation making Delia squirm in anticipation.

"Yeah but I wanted to say it again. Phyllis always says repetition for emphasis does wonders when handling difficult patients". The hands stilled in their ministrations as Patsy stared at her in faux consternation.

"Am I difficult Deels? And can we not talk about our colleagues while we're naked, it kills the mood" Delia laughed and shifted her weight to roll Patsy onto her back, pinning her with her legs and squeezing a hard nipple between thumb and fore finger idly until Patsy groaned and arched her back.

"Oh no; not the mood. What can I do to get it back?" Patsy looked up at her, the lust strong in her blown pupils.

"I've got a few ideas" she volunteered breathlessly. Delia giggled and bent low to bite the womans lip.

"Well I've always believed you should listen to others opinions" Patsys response was indistinct as Delia ground herself down hard.

"Mmm..."

\--

A little while later the light was scoring lines onto the walls through the gaps around the ancient wood. The day was here to greet them even if they didn't want it to. It was an unavoidable fact that one of them needed to show their face. The bodies would need to be buried today... Eyeing Delias bruised features Patsy had insisted that it be her to answer the call.

Delia had attempted to argue but had been silenced by a kiss as bruising as anything else she'd felt in the last 24 hours.

"Just let me care for you for once. You're not ready to go anywhere, nurses orders.' Delia opened her mouth to asnwer tartly but was stopped when Patsy cocked her head to the side looking stern. 'Do I need to tie you down to make you appreciate the fact that you are hurt Delia?" Delia watched as Patsy stared down at her and raised her eyebrows at her suddenly tight voice.

"The ties aren't necessary. I just don't want you hurt." Delia muttered eventually feeling embarrassed. Patsy sighed and stroked a strand of hair away from Delias face, her lips puckered in concentration.

"I'm not the one who ran into a mine field Delia, I'm not the one who nearly got myself killed. I'll be fine. Whether I can watch you go out there again is the real question, I thought I was going to have a heart attack when I saw you running out there you know. You scared me." Delia stared at Patsy abrupt admission, suddenly ashamed of her actions.

"I'm sorry,' she whispered shamefaced, only managing to relax when Patsy sighed and lay closer to wrap Delia tightly in her arms, 'I just didn't want anyone else to die." Patsy didn't say anything immediately, just rubbed a finger at Delias temple again, her eyes closed as she seemed to count to ten in her head.

"If you had died I don't think I would have survived it. You... I just don't want to be in a world without you in it somewhere." Delia felt her heart tighten as the hands around her squeezed reflexively.

They lay together for longer than they should, not needing to say anything more, as the beams of sunlight widened above their heads. Words would just get in the way in any case. Neither wanted to acknowledge the passing time even as it sped ever on.

Never ending.

Eventually they were forced to admit defeat as a clatter of boots pounded the outside ground. The shift was changing. Time was up. Delia reluctantly allowed Patsy to slip away. Feeling disproportionately bereft as she watched the pale body rise from their bed gracefully and dip to pick up discarded clothes that littered the tiny floor.

Patsy turned, hands full of trouser to see Delia watching her fretfully from the mattress. Understanding blossomed in her eyes immediately and, biting her lip, she chose to perch on the lip of the cot to dress instead of doing it quickly on her feet. At the unspoken invitation Delia scrambled up, ridiculously gratified to still be close.

At the knowledge that Patsy still wanted her close.

Patsy had a scar on her shoulder Delia noticed. It was new... so many things to ask, to say... Not yet though Delia told herself as she reached to stroke the curve of a shoulder blade as it moved up and down. They had time enough to talk about everything. 

When she came back they would. Delia wasn't sure how she'd let this woman go in the first place. This time it felt like it would kill her to be apart. Even if it was a few hours.

Patsy awkwardly dragged her trousers on and bent to poke her feet into a boot turned on its side. Delia watched it dissappear into the opening in the dark leather mutely. As Patsy bent forward to tie the laces of her boot Delia insinuated her legs either side of the red heads body. Patsy let out a shaky groan as their skin touched. 

"I think we need ground rules." Delia muttered as she pressed open mouth kisses down the back of Patsys long neck. She watched goosebumps bobble up the skin of her shoulder as her breath misted over it. Patsy huffed as she finished the final loop of her first boot before leaning up and pulling Delias hands around her waist to stroke the soft skin of her belly, resting her head back to lay on Delias shoulder. The blue eyes looked up at Delia, smiling wanly.

"Rules?' Patsys mouth twisted like the words tasted off, 'I don't want rules with you Deels." Delia felt her throat close as she took in Patsys form, her curving mouth, her fine profile. Beautiful. Delia couldn't take her eyes from her. The skin beneath her fingers was addictive in its pull, Delia was already addicted. Already she wanted... 

"What do you want?" Delia asked, hypnotised by this woman, her voice distant. Patsy watched her steadily, the iris's tracing Delias face carefully.

"You. Just you. Just this." Delia felt something painful contract in her chest at the calm words. She thought it was her heart.

"You've got me." She answered, her voice curiously low like they were plotting something terrible. Something no one else should know. Patsy smiled.

"Then I don't want anything else." 

Delia kissed her directly between the eyes, her lips finding a secret tickle spot and was rewarded to hear Patsy laugh quietly. Delia didn't want to stop kissing this woman. She didn't want her to leave the safety of their room, to go out into the world where death was everywhere. She wanted this moment forever...

"I need to go." Patsy, as usual, was on the same wavelength. Her voice was a mingling of regret and solemnity. Delia couldn't speak, couldn't say goodbye so settled instead for two more kisses over Patsys eyes before releasing her properly to shrug on shirt and jacket.

Once she was dressed she rocked on her heels for a moment. Suddenly awkward to be formal after so many events had taken place in this space. Delia watched her, burning with fear at the unknown.

"Promise me you'll be safe." Delia whispered the words from behind her fingers as she chewed at a thumbnail distractedly. Patsy seemed to jolt from whatever thoughts she'd been trapped in and stepped forward to wrap Delia in a crushing hug.

"Wild Tyrannosaurus Rex won't stop me from coming back to you. Promise." Delia chuckled as her eyes stung from withheld tears. They'd gone to the natural history museum for Delias birthday. Their first birthday together. It had been a private joke to name dinosaurs, the more obscure the better. 

Old jokes for old feelings. 

Well, old and new.

"Just be safe." She ordered and Patsy nodded as she let Delia loose and stepped to the door.

With a flash of red she was gone from sight. Always answering the call that never stopped. Delia sighed loudly in the quiet space staring up at the rafters, watching the spiders hanging between rotting beams, thinking, thinking, thinking...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little update, sorry its a bit short. Busy, busy man.
> 
> Next one should be longer...
> 
> SB


	25. Oh, death was never an enemy of ours!

Delia remained in the stables for as long as possible but the warm feeling had deserted the space with Patsys departure. A well of concerns flooded her mind without the distracting presence of the woman.

Left to her own devices Delia was unable to prevent herself dwelling on everything that had happened.

She'd done it. She'd crossed her very clearly defined lines. She'd practically pole vaulted over every argument she'd ever made as to why this was a bad idea and just given in. While she regretted nothing in principle a small part couldn't quite fathom her own daring. Not to mention the thorny issue of how she had no idea what they were doing now.

Sex? Yep, that was a given, Delia doubted either of them were capable of shoving that jeanie in the bottle now it was out. Strings? Were they back together now? Were they just scratching an itch? Was Patsy just looking at this as a casual thing?

Delia stared at the roof feeling deflated and more than a little delicate. Her abused body groaned as she moved; body parts she wasn't usually aware of waved their chittys in the air for her attention.

Knees, ankles, back, hips, shoulders, neck, arms... wrists. Everything ached dully as Delia got to her feet and dressed. Her stomach growled at her as she left the stables limping slightly.

She managed to get through a considerable heap of pasta in the mess hall which was helpfully deserted with the main squad out on patrol.

Delia bummed about the rest of the camp for the next few hours feeling like a puppet with its strings cut and oddly listless. She could return to the stables and nap until Patsy returned she knew, probably the best thing to do really, but chose not to. It didn't feel right to try and sleep while Patsy was out. Delia felt a low grade anxiety grow inside her as the hours trickled away. 

They would need to go to the site and bury the bodies. How long would that take? Delia felt again a pang of worry and wished she had gone too. She hated that Patsy was in danger without her nearby.

As the sun drifted across the sky Delia paced about, nodding to anyone she passed but unable to focus on conversation. 

It was after yet another walk around the perimeter Delias attention was caught by a familiar face poking up from the sentry position in the eastern tower. There were four elevated sentry posts in camp. One per corner. Billy, it seemed, had finally been unable to avoid having a jaunt 'on stag'. The job was dreadfully dull according to Billy and consisted mainly of mindlessly staring at empty ground for twelve hours while leaning against a loaded heavy duty machine gun.

To Delias knowledge no one had yet to have need of the guns during this companys tenure but none the less it paid to be cautious. Delia watched the back of Billys head as it flickered from view between the wooden beams of the sentry box attached to a roughly built staircase. The squad would return from the eastern direction most likely.

Delia was halfway up the stairs before she'd given any real thought to what she would say to Billy. They hadn't spoken since the minefield.

He was nestled behind the gun, legs splayed out either side on a squat bench, hands resting on the barrel and chin laying on his hands as he scanned the surroundings lazily. A world of white filled the view. Uniform and boring. A fringe of woodland was far off to the east.

Billy looked up, eyebrows raised, as he spotted Delia watching him from the stairwell.

"Morning." 

"Afternoon." Delia shyly stepped into the box and Billy shuffled up to make space beside him. Delia scanned the treeline reflexively as she settled on the hard wood.

"Any movement out there?" Billy too looked out and expelled a long sigh, stretching out his legs luxuriously.

"Nah, reckon the rats are all in their holes licking their wounds.' Billy stared down the barrel of his gun frowning, 'But we can hope." Delia stared at him. He'd changed even more. It was the eyes Delia decided, the eyes were too old for his face. They'd seen too much. Frown lines were digging into his forehead, he'd be an old man inside by the time they managed to get out of here. 

"You look tired Billy." Delia said quietly, feeling vaguely melancholic for the life they were all living. The man who joined up months ago was not the same man she sat beside. How could he be? Delia wasn't what she'd once been either. The world was different now. They all felt it. Billy snorted, his frown clearing like water marks on a hot day.

"Me? What about you?" His voice was mysteriously jovial all of a sudden and Delia stared at him surprised by the change of tone.

"What about me?" Delia disliked the smirk dancing around Billys lips. Like he knew something she didn't. Billy crossed his arms and stretched out his legs leisurely before answering. Idly rubbing a grease spot on the gun with his thumb.

"I came to check on you last night after I watched you with ginger walking back to your billet..." He tailed off, unable to prevent the knowing smile widening his lips. A very knowing smile. Too knowing. Shit! Delia stared dead straight before her but couldn't see the landscapeas anymore as her thoughts raced. They'd been careful, Patsy had made sure the door was shut. The thin wooden door with gaps in it... shit! Delia tried to read how much Billy knew but was stumped as he stared back at her with an innocent expression. Delia plumped for an equally innocent response.

"Right. Sorry must have been distracted, didn't hear you knock." Billy blinked a few times slowly before chuckling. A bird roosting above their heads in the roof took flight nervously at the noise.

"I'll bet you didn't... from what I heard your mates quite the, err, distraction." Red blood stained Delias cheeks in unhelpfully large quantities. Billy was sucking at his cheek making the plane hollow. Delia sagged in her seat.

"How much did you hear exactly?" She asked knowing from his face he'd heard everything. That was it then. Patsy and Delia would be stopped before they even properly had a chance. They'd be split up, fraternization with colleagues on active duty was a no go. Complicated. Stupid, stupid.

"Enough to know you're a big old muff diver.' Delia choked, surprised by the mans laughing tone as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Delia frowned at him, annoyed. 'Have to say it felt good to know why you keep turning me down Jock, was starting to think I was losing my touch. Helps knowing you're the one with the issue." Delias frown deepened as she stared at Billy in disgust.

"Issue?" She said scathingly and watched in satisfaction as Billy straightened slightly, finally picking up on his friends irritation.

"Ahh, that's probably not the right word, don't want to offend or anything I was just surprised to find out you're a bender. Helps the old ego to know. Kept thinking; why didn't I work it out?' He swapped sucking cheeks and the left returned to its normal place with a wet popping noise as he eyed Delia up and down. 'Think it's the hair. Your lot usually go for the skin head look, threw me a bit to meet a girly dyke." Delia relaxed somewhat into her chair deciding not to comment on 'your lot' just yet.

She'd been here before, she recognised the signs. This conversation was old hat, she'd done it on and off with people most of her adult life. She was fervently glad Patsy hadn't been here when Billy admitted his knowledge though, she was prone to snapping curious georges down as soon as the conversation went down this familiar route. Billy didn't look disgusted just interested. She sincerely hoped she wasn't going to be asked about scissoring today.

"The short hair isn't mandatory.' Delia replied absentmindedly, 'the gay maffia only make you do it during the initiation stage, after you get the membership badge you're allowed to wear what you want." Billy blinked a few times as his smile went up a few more notches. Delia peered at him in exasperation.

"Gay maffia?" He asked grinning. Delia returned the expression lazily as she let her eyes scan the treeline again. Patsy would be back soon...

"Yeah we don't talk about them much; court orders, vow of silence, sorority, all that jazz." Billy cocked his head as though he was trying to decide if Delia was being serious or not. Delia did not look away from the trees, willing a flash of red to reach her gaze. Billy huffed as he realised she wasn't taking him seriously.

"You're a tit." He said in slight annoyance. Delia merely shrugged.

"Yes, well, I didn't come up here to talk about my sex life William." She replied in her best firm nurse voice. Billy gulped and looked a little ashamed before following Delias gaze. The smirk grew once again.

"Nah, you came up here to see if your girlfriend was on her way back." His voice was a leer and Delia turned her head slowly to stare at the man.

"And to spend a moment in your wonderful company Billy. Never forget that." Billy ducked his head and tapped on the handle of the gun clicking his tongue as his gaze swept the foreground again. Still on duty.

"They're half an hour off unless they've hit trouble. We'd hear about it if they had I think." His voice was still teasing but Delia felt buoyed at the news. Patsy would be home soon and then...

"Are you going to tell Dyer?" She asked him nervously. Frustrated at her lack of options but to ask him not to tell. She felt like a child asking an older child for a favour. Billy frowned, taken aback.

"What? About you and red? Of course I won't,' Delia stared in surprise at his incredulous face. Billy was looking at her as though she'd asked him something insulting. Billy sniffed. "Happy to know someones getting some out here if I'm honest. God knows we could all do with it... as it goes, if you two ever want company..." Delia crinkled her nose in disgust at the thought.

"On behalf of both of us I'll take out a big fat 'never going to happen' card on your offer Billy." Billy laughed raucously and Delia scowled, knowing the others would hear them from down below because of the volume.

"Well, me and my little womb ferret will always be at your disposal Jock should that change." Billy looked close to cracking a rib as he chuckled. Delia inwardly retched.

"It's a mystery to me how you've managed to beat the girls away with lines like that Billy." She said woodenly and Billy bent at the waist to choke out a few more laughs. Delia waited for him to get over it, tapping her boot irritably as each chuckle reached her ears. Eventually the man resurfaced, wiping tears of mirth from the corners of his eyes.

"Yeah, never understood it myself. You know, my first girlfriend was one of your lot. I think I've developed a type." Delia rolled her eyes. 

"Thought you said you'd never seen a girly lesbian before." Billy shrugged nonchalantly.

"She wasn't a lesbian back then, she looked normal. She's all shacked up with a podiatrist these days and she's a vegetarian, no idea what happened there.' He glanced sideways, eyes questioning to Delia, Delia inwardly sighed at what she suspected was about to be asked of her. Happened every time. 'Jess, her name's Jess. You might know her." Delia rolled her eyes as she was proved right.

"It's not a club and I come from Pembrokeshire. We don't get names and addresses in the monthly news letter, it'd take too much ink." 

"Fair enough. You never know though, always ask another question that's what my mum says." Delia rolled her lip between her teeth, chewing thoughtfully.

"Was she referring to lesbians when she said that?"

"Not specifically no." Billy deadpanned. Delia smiled.

"Best not to then sometimes Billy." 

They sat in companiable silence for a few minutes both thinking their own thoughts. Delias eyes fell back to the line of trees. Patsy didn't have breakfast, she'd be hungry, they could grab something and-

"Can I ask just one more question though?" Her itinerary was cut off by Billy who was wearing what he clearly felt was a scientific expression. Delia considered him briefly before blowing out a jet of breath irritably.

"One and that's your lot." Billy nodded at his friends short response and leaned in seriously.

"I've just always wondered and since you're here and everything. Be a pity to miss the opportunity." He waffled. 

"Just ask Billy." 

"I only wanted to know; how do you guys work out who's the man, you know, in bed?' Delia watched in subdued horror at Billys lack of embarrassment. His eyes were wide as he waited expectantly before adding hastily, 'is it who pays for dinner out or something?" Delia stared at him through narrowed eyes before sighing.

"Well,' she leaned closer conspiratorially and Billys eyes lit up like a child on Christmas morning. Delia lowered her voice and octave; 'everyone has their own system. Personally, I play thumb war for it but the adventurous ones have been known to play scrabble games. I've been told the tensions palpable."

"I knew it.' Billy grinned jubilantly. Delia stifled a snort.

A loud shout interrupted the conversation; made them both turn back to the front jerkily. A gaggle of tired looking soldiers were making their way across thick snow, a little forest of shovel spears poking above their heads. 

"They're early. Ground must be softer than we thought." Commented Billy absentmindedly. Delia disregarded him.

Standing up without conscious thought Delia craned her head to seek the only member of the troupe she wanted to see right now.

She was there. At the back, eyes fixed ahead, green pack bobbing on her back, shoulders slumped. She looked tired Delia thought and a flash of guilt at letting Patsy go out on such a little amount of sleep went through her.

Billy and Delia watched them until they were five minutes away before relaxing. Delia smiled at Billy, unable to prevent the relief showing in her face. Billy smiled a bit ruefully in return.

"You look good when you smile Jock, red best know that. If she fucks up I'll have a word if you want. You're a good girl, she's lucky. Hopefully she'll smile a bit more now, always thought she was a bit sour personally but I suppose it's different strokes for different folks and all that." Delia looked at him thoughtfully, imagining Patsys face if Billy ever tried to talk to her about her intentions. She made a mental note to never leave them together alone.

"Thanks Billy, I appreciate it. For everything." 

Hastily, Delia beat a retreat, the stairs creaking ominously at her heavy footfalls. She wanted to be there when Patsy came through the gates. She wanted her to know she was thinking about her. She wanted-

"Busby!" Delia froze at her name as it was called across the empty ground. Frowning, she scanned the area for the caller and spotted Dyer striding over to her, tea cup in hand and a resolute expression on her face. Delia felt trapped as the superior made her way over to her.

Did she already know? Had Billy told one of the others and they'd blabbed?

"I'd appreciate a few moments of your time if you wouldn't mind private?" The statement was framed like a question but Delia was left with the distinct impression the request was mandatory. Mutely she nodded her head at the captain who indicated with a mug enclosed hand back the way Dyer had come towards the tea hut.

They walked shoulder to shoulder but nerves prevented Delia forming a cohesive sentence let alone attempting small talk. Her thoughts inexorably drew back to the front gate where Patsy, even now, would be crossing the threshold to safety.

If Dyer knew what had happened, if she was about to send Delia away, would she get the chance to say goodbye? What if something happened out here and Patsy was hurt? What if she died? Her minds eye saw the pink smog that had covered her only a day before. Would that happen to Patsy? Delia felt tension roll under her skin like a unfurled mat. She couldn't quite manage to stop her hands shaking as she allowed herself to be seated at the table in front of the captain and accepted a steaming mug of weak tea while Dyer settled herself across the way.

"You look better than yesterday I must say Busby. How are you physically? No severe injuries, Mounts informed me there's nothing that requires time out but I wanted to check with you before filing my report." 

Delia relaxed infinitesimally at the unexpected question.

"Physically, as in bruising and stuff' Delia considered the question, 'I'm a bit sore, the concussion made me see stars and some nausea but nothing worse thankfully. I was very lucky." Lucky wasn't quite the word Delia thought privately. She knew she should be dead right now. Patsy had thought she'd been dead. She couldn't afford to put herself into the same situation again; the risks were too great out here. Dyer was peering at her over her undrunk tea. 

Props and mirrors. Delia had the distinct feeling she was being assessed right now and forced herself to relax in front of the captain. It would look suspect if she appeared overly riled.

"That's good to hear Busby. Naturally the British army wants all of its soldiers to receive the best support while on active duty. Obviously, the situation will need to be put into my report and HQ may suggest an external evaluation...' Dyer hesitated, looking embarrassed and tapped a finger on her mug, 'on both physical and mental wellness." Delia sat straighter in her seat her face suddenly hot.

"A psych evaluation! For what happened captain, is that strictly necessary ma'am?" Dyer traced her teeth with her tongue as she surveyed Delia steadily across the formica covered table.

"Private, you ran into a mine field unarmed towards an enemy with no clear reasons. You failed to follow all procedures and protocols and, from my perspective, no apparent presence of self. You endangered two of your colleagues in the process and possibly compromised our position in a hot spot. If any other unfriendly forces were in the area, aerial or on foot, your actions could have resulted in the entire squads death. You recklessly endangered lives and before I send my report I want to ascertain your reasoning; in short Busby you need to give me a good reason why I shouldn't ship your arse back to Debrecen today." 

The hot feeling at Delias neck intensified as she considered Dyers word. It was true. All of it. Guilt and shame fought for supremacy in Delias gut as she took a sip of tea more for something to do than any real thirst. She grimaced at the grainy flavour. No sugar either. Looking up Dyer was still watching her. Her face was not angry or judging, she looked as though she was waiting for Delia to reply. Delia took a steadying breath feeling sick.

"I can only apologise ma'am. I had no intentions of doing anything like that. I don't and never will want anyone here to be harmed and that's the truth... I've never been in an active combat situation; I didn't know what to expect. It might not be the justification you want but all I can say is; I'm a nurse. My field is built on compassion and a willingness to help those who can't help themselves. That soldier in the mine field was in need of medical attention and while he wasn't a brit I felt-' Delia searched desperately in her head for the right word to absolve her feelings of inadequacies. 'Compelled to aid him. Knowing what I know and experiencing the aftermath I can say with full sincerity that the actions I took will not be repeated. After the firefight and the amount of dead I wanted someone to be saved. I can't apologise for those feelings but I do feel completely ashamed of the repercussions to my actions.' She hung her head, unwilling to look at Dyer as she castigated herself. The mug in her hand was teak stained. Belatedly she wondered if anyone had bothered to wash it. The grit in her mouth made her tongue feel sticky. Dyer cleared her throat noisily.

"I can understand that Busby. Hell, they send green recruits now and expect you to handle the situations with cool calm collection. I've never been accused of unfairness and I'm willing to view this as an informal line manager meeting but I need to make sure you understand that if your behaviour is repeated then formal investigations will have to happen and you could lose your position. Am I understood?" Delia raised her face to meet the captains eye, still feeling slightly beaten by the enormity of her own behaviour. An informal slap on the wrists? Delia felt she deserved far worse. If Patsy had died because of her she'd never be able to live with herself. Everyone else here was someones Patsy. She deserved everything she got really.

"I understand captain. Thank you for that although I understand if you change your mind. It was inexcusable and I appreciate your candor in regards to this matter." Dyer shook her head and relaxed in her seat. Finally deigning to take a sip of her drink.

"You're a good nurse Busby, God knows we need more of you. You and Mount have been nothing short of wonderful and there's a need for you both. You're a good team together I cant deny that." Delia stared at the captains clear face, slightly taken aback at the unexpected compliment; a rarity from an officer to admit the team was doing well. Small would have worn her like a glove for her actions she knew.

"Thank you ma'am. Patsy and I both feel proud to be a part of the squad." Delia ventured. Dyer offered a small smile tapping her drink again.

"Yes, you and Mount do seem to be a good team. As a leader it's important to know that everyone clicks well and you two certainly run a tight ship...' Dyer eyed Delia speculatively, a slight suggestive quality colouring her voice. 'I must admit Busby, it's been quite some time since I've seen a pair so... dedicated to one another in their role. It's a rare occasion to see you with your peers outside of meal times I've noticed. While I understand your commitment to your work it would... perhaps, be better if you both were observed interacting with others. It would stop any nasty... rumours that would potentially need to be reviewed should they reach me in great numbers." Delia blinked at the captains purposefully blank expression. She knew. She must do and this was, what? A tip off. Delia nodded her head shakily.

"Yes ma'am, I'll take that on board."

"Good good Busby!' Said Dyer, suddenly brisk, as she clapped her hands together, 'well, now that that's all cleared up I believe the team has returned and naturally you'll want to see the esteemable nurse Mount for a handover so we'll leave it at that. My report will not include your infraction. Good day." Delia mouthed stupidly for a moment feeling oddly adrift at the sudden dismissal. Numbly she rose and left the room, half disbelieving that there was nothing further to speak about.

The sky threatened more snow as she stepped outside. The purple clouds far off bruised the skyline. Delia paused as she felt the air bite at her sharply. Chewing over the rapid dialogue. She'd need to take the suggestion seriously; she needed to tell Patsy too. Delia sighed watching her breath rise above her head in a thick mist. 

Patsy. 

The word was its own vipers nest of emotions right there. They'd probably need to have a conversation Delia thought glumly. They'd had sex. A lot of sex... really really good sex. Delia prayed to the God of lovesick lesbians that they would manage not to fuck this up between them because she wanted very much to continue having great sex with this woman. As for anything more... well that would need to be discussed.

Delia trecked through camp, poking her head through the door to the food house and scanning the faces before leaving when no flash of red met her eyes.

Patsy was in the stables when Delia got there. Washing her hands and face with a wet flannel. She turned when Delia approached looking faintly apprehensive.

The world turned soft as their eyes met.

"Have you eaten yet?" Delia asked quietly, not wanting to break the moment by loud voices. Patsy dropped the flannel onto the table with a slap.

"I grabbed a bunch of stuff and scoffed it straight then and there. Didn't realise how hungry I was; I thought you might still be here." Patsy looked uncharacteristically awkward standing in the middle of their room, Delia stepped inside and closed the door. It sounded loud in the small space.

"I was talking to Dyer. She wanted to speak to me about yesterday and give me some advice about how much time we spend together. We need to hang out in camp to stop people talking." Patsy looked surprised at the revelation and frowned at Delia.

"What are they saying?" Delia shrugged. 

"Not sure but we need to play it right. If people knew... we could be seperated." Patsy stiffened and crossed her arms.

"If that's what you want. We'll just chalk it up to adrenaline if you want then." Her face looked closed off and Delia huffed in exasperation, crossing the space and wrapping her arms around the stubborn woman until she relaxed somewhat.

"Don't be an idiot, of course I don't want that. I just want us not to be sent somewhere else. It wasn't just adrenaline to me. Don't think that Pats." Mollified, Patsy enfolded Delia into a rib cracking embrace. It felt good to be close. The comforting smell of bleach and nivea filled Delias nose as she rested her head on Patsys chest.

"I missed you today." Delia admitted sheepishly and Patsy sighed rubbing her ear affectionately.

"Me too. I was worrying about you the whole time. Burying people you'd think I'd be better at compartmentalizing but I was scared you might have delayed concussion or something. How is your head." Her hands travelled to Delias scalp as she spoke, a finger traced Delias temple as if to reassure herself once more Delia was whole.

"I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me. Busbys bounce or so my dad used to tell me when I fell over as a kid.' Patsy smiled against Delias head, 'Dyers not going to report me either which is good I suppose."

"Suppose? I don't like what you did but I understand it. Dyer should understand we can't control impulses." Delia felt the shame resurface at Patsys comforting words and her eyes blurred with unexpected tears.

"If you had been killed because of me I would have wanted to die Pats. I made a bad choice; I don't want anyone in danger because of me." Patsy loosened her grip long enough to tug Delia onto the bed with her. Without words they both lay down, content just to be close.

"You did what anyone would do with an ounce of compassion Deels. You've always cared more than most; its not a bad thing." Delia nodded mutely at Patsys encouragement and let the weight of Patsys arm anchor her. They lay quietly for a long stretch of time, just being.

There were bags under Patsys eyes. She looked drained almost. Delia had no idea how she looked herself. The last few days were catching up with them it seemed. Delia knew they should talk about this thing they'd started... But it was comfortable like this. They were both worn out, sleep was an attractive option right now. Patsy was looking at her like she was something special. Maybe that was enough, maybe-

Patsy placed a gentle kiss to Delias forehead drowsily.

"Stop thinking, I can hear your brain going in there, it's exhausting Delia. Can we just sleep? Tomorrow is still going to happen no matter what we do." Delia stared at the red head. Patsy had closed her eyes, her voice sounding distant as she relaxed with Delia in her arms.

They needed to talk, they needed to discuss what this was-

"Delia! Go to sleep." Ordered Patsy muzzily making Delia jump laughingly. She hadn't opened her eyes so she must just remember how Delia could get. Delia pressed her smile into the womans shoulder, happiness bubbling inside her like a filled balloon.

Patsy seemed already to be asleep. She'd never admit to being a closet snorer but a faint treble of heavy breaths were already emanating from her closed mouth. Delia watched her for a while, letting her fingers map out the features gently.

Beautiful.

They did sleep; together, on a single cot bed built for one person. It should have been uncomfortable, it should have been awkward at least and yet Delia could not recall sleeping as well in years as Patsy snored quietly into her ear. 

Delia dreamt of nothing. Patsy dreamt of Delia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand there you go people. Apologies for the wait,massive clusterfucks at work coupled with general exhaustion have rendered this particular banana pleased just to put her pants on the right way round quite frankly.
> 
> Hope the update makes you smile; hands up if you've ever had a Billy chat *raises two hands, my feet, the cats feet and a small metaphorical octopus in the air*
> 
> Also, as an aside, someone kudos this story with the user name myotherrideisyourmum, you my friend get a high five for a good name!
> 
> SB


	26. We laughed with him, we leagued with him, old chum

The succession of the ensuing two months were almost dreamlike. Winter gave way to a weak spring. The weather became slightly less severe even if snow still continued to flurry from the unforgiving skies. The camp became a home almost. 

The two nurses paid heed to their seniors quiet hint and lip serviced the command sporadically. Delia forced herself to spend a few nights a week in the barracks with the boys and although initially awkward her association with Billy seemed to give her a way in and eventually it seemed she became much like everyone else; frazzled and tense and burning for a distraction from the things she'd seen.

Patsy, for her part and to Delias surprise, struck up a friendship with Paxo the techie. They were both more inclined to spend time away from the loud laughter of the barracks and appeared to share a fondness for algorithms. 

The nights they did not visit the others were spent together in their little stable bedroom. Patsys cot had somehow become their cot, Delias relegated as an extra storage area. On the bitterest of nights they zipped their sleeping bags together. Not really necessary for warmth as such; Patsy appeared strongly inclined to make Delia as hot as possible, but for the excuse to be close. 

It seemed impossible for Delia to recall how she'd managed to sleep so close to Patsy for months and not reached for her. The comforting feel of Patsys soft body pressed against her was better than any pill or drink. Patsy warded off fears. She was an anchor in the choas and Delia knew in her heart that to be parted from this comfort again might kill her. 

They hadn't yet spoken about what it was they were doing. Delia had tried a few more times but Patsy, skilled in evasion of subjects she didn't want to discuss, railroaded each attempt through entreaties for sleep, seduction or castigations about 'wrong time, wrong place'. In the end Delia had given up. 

It wasn't casual. It couldn't be Delia reassured herself. Patsy seemed just as eager for Delia as Delia was for her. Labels weren't necessary always, not when Patsy looked at her like she was fighting the urge to touch her all the time. Not when a look sent her way made Delia feel like her chest would explode with its frantic racing heartbeats.

The reconnection was painfully desperate. Delia could only just bare to get out of bed in the mornings and every reuninion felt as heavy as the first one. Delia constantly warded off the sensation of addiction, Patsy had become like a drug and to refuse or ignore her prescence was an impossibility for either of them. 

The days spent on patrols were harder and harder to bare. Delia found herself unable to focus and increasingly snappish as the hours ticked away until Patsy returned and by the slight dip in the dirt of their rooms floor Patsy spent her time with Delia out of sight pacing the time away.

This reaction admittedly could not be entirely based on their rekindled affair. The patrols were becoming increasingly fraught with danger. Invisible forces had segwayed into becoming one or two unfriendlies per patrol with more appearing weekly. No one could fathom how the Russians were pushing through the cracks and the danger increased as more mine fields and traps were placed on the squads routes. 

Two more small villages had been massacred. The girl swollen with pregnancy had been another casualty. Walking into the village and finding the bodies hung from rafters and trees burnt beyond recognition save a small girls silhouette with her great jutting belly had left Delia cold and hard.

Her mothers letters seemed a foreign language to her as they made their sluggish way through the army postal system. It seemed bizarre to Delia as she swallowed down stale ration packs and washed away blood and dirt from her hands after trips out that there were still places in the world that could care about Mrs Gerrin's affair with the priest from her childhood parish or that her cousin had broken up with his girlfriend after failing his driving test. 

The food parcels were much more fondly received however and Delias mother had reached a sort of awed deity level from some of the younger boys as they tasted her mango twirls.

The others seemed to be holding onto their sanity well despite the constantly heightening tension on patrol compensating for it with drunken parties in the barracks. On those nights Delia and Patsy stayed away. 

It was the morning after such a party Delia tightened her laces on her boots while Patsy sat and smoked glumly watching her. They were sat outside in the chilled but clear air. The men were groaning from the toilets and puking up rotgut and moonshine.

"Idiots." Muttered Patsy absentmindedly, tapping off a trail of ash from her cigarette.

"They're just getting by Pats." Soothed Delia as she nudged beside Patsy, also looking towards the toilets. She knew Pats irritation was mainly due to Delias impending patrol and paid it little attention. Sure the coast was clear Delia reached down to grasp Patsys free hand. Patsy returned the squeeze and Delia sighed.

"Post should be here by the time I'm back. Mam said she'd try cookies this time round, you can have a few if it'll cheer you up." Patsy blew out an impressive smoke ring and smirked.

"Are you saying I need sweetening up Deels?" Delia chuckled remembering the night before, Patsy had spent fifteen minutes torturing her by making her kay still while she kissed the sensitive skin behind her knees.

"No you're sweet enough for me, but sugar does help." Patsy smiled and leaned her head on Delias shoulder companiably.

"I don't want you to go." She admitted quietly and Delia sighed, understanding completely.

"I know, but I have to. It'll only be a few hours. Paxo says the high ups want us close by today." 

"Close by? I thought you'd be checking out that new field?" Delia shrugged unconcerned and got to her feet. Patsy passed her her rifle.

"Just what Paxo said when I saw him. Should be back for lunch. We could go get my package and you can have first dibbs." Patsy nodded slowly and got up to place Delias helmet securely on her head.

"Come home to me soon then." She ordered and Delia grinned at Patsys use of home. She liked it. She wanted to come home to Patsy every day from here on out.

"I promise' Delia snuck a quick look around and seeing the area deserted placed a quick peck to the red heads cheek. 'See you soon babe." 

Patsy rolled her eyes at the endearment and her clipped call of; ' that'll do pig' followed Delia as she walked to the parade ground.

The patrol was indeed short. The squad only patrolling a five square mile perimeter before returning. They came across nothing of interest and that in itself was strange. During the last few weeks it was unheard of to have a complete patrol without some incident. The absence of anything happening put Delia on edge. It didn't mean there weren't enemies close by and the fact that they were not visible was not a comforting thought.

Strolling back into camp Delia felt a jolt of disappointment not to find Patsy waiting for her as had become their custom. Instead a nervous looking Billy stood outside the food Hall scanning the squad.

On seeing Delia he beckoned urgently and Delia walked over. Her shoulder ached from the med packs weight although the repetitive blisters had formed a sort of callous there. She'd need some serious moisturiser before she braved a vest back home. A fleeting image of a bbq in her parents back garden with Patsy joking on the grass with the menagerie of children attached to her family made her start. God she wanted that one day.

Billy was tapping his foot nervously when Delia got to him. She opened her mouth to ask what was wrong but was waved into silence as Billy grabbed her arm and half dragged her into a shadowy alcove a little way away. When they were out of sight he rounded on Delia.

"Jock, I made a mistake, I think you're in trouble." Delia stared at him, her thoughts swivelling onto Dyer and her warnings. 

"Did you tell someone about me and Patsy?" She asked seriously, struggling to keep her anger at bay. Billy shook his head wretchedly.

"No, course I didn't. Your package turned up. I gave it to red." Delia stared at him uncomprehendingly, not seeing the issue.

"Well I know regs say you should give it to the intended addressee but I don't mind Patsy picking it up Bill. What's wrong with that?" Billy was rubbing his chin which was sprouting out stubby black hairs.

"The problem is captain kirk you've got a girl in every port. If I'd known you had black ops sending you shit I'd have hidden it but I didn't know and she opened it. She saw your bit of fluffs love note." Reaching into his jacket he pulled put a sheet of paper with spidery hand writing all over it. The paper looked rumpled as though it had been balled up and smoothed out again. Wordlessly Delia took the letter and scanned the contents. Her stomach seemed to freeze as she read the unfamiliar hands lines.

"Think of you always... not the same in Pembrokeshire without you... miss your warmth... your mother says... Lots of love Lacey." Delia took in the small line composed of kisses at the very end; the little x's seemed to mock her. They looked too much like targets. Delia looked at Billys stricken face.

"Patsy read this?" She asked aghast and Billy nodded.

"Threw it at the floor and stormed off with the basket. Sorry Jock, I didn't know." Delia was already walking away, her vision thinning out as she strode through the compound.

Bloody Lacey! Bloody Delia for agreeing that letters would be a good idea. Damn Patsy for seeming to believe the worst immediately.

There was a cardboard box outside the door to the stables, it lay on its side and a deep hole suggested Patsy had booted it with some force. Delia felt her trepidation blind her.

Hovering outside the closed door she took a final look at her fist that still clutched the letter and shoved it in her jackets inner pocket. She felt dizzy almost, she hadn't realised how quickly she had run here.

Stepping into the stables Delias eyes struggled to adapt to the dark light. She hastily shrugged off her jacket and threw it on the floor before letting the door slam behind her and leaning against the wood, catching her breath hurriedly. Patsy was laying on their cot, her knees pulled up to her chest facing the wall. She didn't look up as Delia entered and Delias heart sank a few more inches in her chest.

Wordlessly Delia strode across the small space and clambered onto the cot, pressing up against the stiff body that still gave no intimation Patsy had observed the intrusion into their shared space. Delia floundered, suddenly tongue tied in this vacuum of unspoken words and pressed her lips together tightly as though it would help stop herself from saying the wrong thing and breaking this fragile thing they had.

"I ate two of your cookies and I'm not sorry." 

Delia blinked at the unexpected comment, Patsys rather childish tone of voice making a warmth spread up Delias chest and without waiting for anything else Delia raised an arm over Patsys waist and pulled her back firmly so they were flush. Patsys back cold against Delias warm front. Cautiously Delia placed a tiny kiss on the back of the red heads neck. Patsy still didn't relax her frigid stance but she didn't move away either.

"S'alright, I said you could. Did it help?" 

"Not really, they went a bit stale in transit." Patsy sniffed, still looking at the wall. They lay there on the bed. Patsy brooding and Delia unsure what to do or how to fix this immediately. She'd done nothing wrong she reassured herself shakily but the hurt emanating from the redhead in her arms said otherwise.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Delia whispered, not completely certain that pushing Patsy was a good idea at this moment in time but knowing it was up to her to make the first move.

"No." Patsy replied shortly and Delia sagged; at a loss. Eventually she settled on rubbing circles on the tense shoulder for a few minutes as she considered what to do next. 

"Do you want to call me names until you feel better?" She queried hesitantly and Patsy chuckled darkly, finally turning over onto her side, her arms folded protectively across her chest still refusing to look at Delia. Delia was pressed to the edge, the sharp sting of the cots border biting into her hip.

"I'm angry you didn't tell me you had someone waiting for you at home." Patsy said coldly to the ceiling. Delia sighed and tried to find a more comfortable position on the suddenly Patsy full mattress.

"I don't, she's a friend. I would hardly sleep with you if I was committed elsewhere; you should know that about me already Pats." Admonished Delia gently. This answer seemed to stir Patsy into some kind of response finally and her gaze flicked to Delia, the eyes dark and full of accusations.

"A friend? So you haven't slept with her then?" The question cracked like a whip and Delia couldn't stop the wince as she realised she'd already hit sticky ground.

"A few times,' Delia admitted reluctantly, speeding up to defend herself despite the fact she knew she didn't need to, 'it wasn't anything serious, she wanted... post card love I suppose, I couldn't give her that." Patsy was watching her, her tongue tracing her teeth as though she was counting them in her head slowly.

"When?"

"When what?"

"When did you last sleep with her?" Delia felt a blush creep up her neck as Patsy watched her steadily.

"Patsy that's just not-" Delia began, feeling nettled, but Patsy overrode her, raising an eyebrow.

"When?" Delia looked at the cracked wall unable to meet Patsys eye as she muttered;

"The night the London was bombed, after I signed up." Patsy considered this for a moment.

"Before or after you drop called me?" There was a particularly large crack in the wall just above head height, dirt had accumulated along the ridge somehow. It stood out against the faded whitewash like a wound.

"Afterwards." Delia said eventually in a small voice.

Patsy nodded to herself grimly as though some terrible suspicion had been confirmed to her but Delia noticed that in that moment she moved closer to the wall, making space again. Delia lay beside her fully once more, letting her thigh rest over Patsys leg lightly, giving her room if she needed it.

"Why did you stop? Doesn't look like she wants it to stop anytime to me. You don't send care packages to someone unless they mean something to you. Does she? Does she mean something to you? How many women are in love with you? How many women have you slept with since me? Was I that replaceable?" The words came out hurriedly, in a long rattling succession and Delia knew Patsys brain was firing out questions as they came to her; unfiltered and furious.

"No, it wasn't like that, Lacey was just... there. She asked if she could send me some stuff while I was here, she's got family in the military and she wanted to help." Delia tried to make her response casual, as though the subject was throw away and unimportant. Lacey was not important in the sense of some long lost soulmate and Delia couldn't pretend she was. She had never been Patsy.

"So you still speak?" Asked Patsy waspishly, managing to pick up on the undisclosed facts with frustrating accuracy. Delia stared at the ceiling, at the cobwebbed rafters and considered what to say, how to answer best. In the end she chose the truthful answer, lying would not help her and anyway, she didn't want to lie to Patsy even if it caused a row.

"I saw her by chance at a pub during the 72 hours R&R before the deployment. I didn't seek her out so stop accusing me of something I haven't done Pats."

"Did she want you to fuck her? Did you want her?" Patsy snapped, her cheeks very white and bloodless. Delia turned her head so there faces were seperated by the smallest gap, squeezing her hand over Patsys still crossed arms and placed it flat on Patsys chest; over her heart. It fluttered like a caged bird against her palm.

"No. You were back. It would be cruel to try and lie that someone else would be enough when you were in my head. She offered and I turned her down; she wasn't who I wanted Patsy." Patsy looked somewhat mollified, her tongue streaking out to lathe at dry lips as she drank in Delias ernest expression.

"Lacey.' Patsy looked sour, saying the name as though it tasted bitter in her mouth. 'Lacey sounds like an ugly girls name." Delia rolled her eyes and finally managed to lay her head on Patsys chest as the folded arms dropped away with twin thuds on the hard mattress.

"She's lovely actually, you'd probably like her, very clever but then again' Delia changed tack at warp speed six seeing the incredulous face Patsy was casting her and shook her head amused, 'maybe not."

"I hate that someone else has seen you naked." Patsy muttered looking grumpy as Delia ran her fingers placatingly through her copper hair, tugging it gently in exasperation.

"Pats, do you honestly think I've been a nun for five years? Do you think I'm not fully aware you've slept with other people since me? It's life sweetheart, you can't get stressed because I've been elsewhere." 

"I know, I do know that Delia, I just don't like the thought of someone else touching you; hate it in fact. I wanted to drink myself into a coma at the bar that night when you left with that woman. You- I couldn't bare it." Delia paused, remembering the bar, the toilet, Patsy, her. Remembering the desperation, the pain.

"Well you're here and they're not Patience... so stop being jealous and enjoy the moment won't you."

"The moment... ' Patsy lifted one corner of her mouth in a half smile but Delia could tell the subject hadn't been ended there; the light wasn't in her eyes as she stared at Delia. 'So bossy nurse Busby, I'm beginning to think all you want me for is my body." Patsy accused evenly looking slightly bitter.

"Definitely not, you're also excellent at tea making Patsy." Delia replied jokingly, wanting to make the situation lighter somehow because the way Patsy was looking at her made her feel uneasy. It was too deep, too much was being said without speaking. This wasn't supposed to be like that was it? Patsy shook her head as she moved slightly and Delia slipped further down to the middle of the cot. Patsy moved with purpose to lay over her, lifting herself up on her elbows to look down at Delia. Her eyes scanning Delias face, half closed as though she were assessing something.

After a pause Patsy sighed and brought the tip of her finger to Delias lip slowly, watching the digits arc in the air almost clinically.

"So... these other women, I suppose its stupid to ask, but you really let them kiss you?" Delia looked at Patsy for a moment before tilting her head embarrassed somehow and annoyed at the guilty sensation the question evoked. They'd been apart five years dammit.

"Yes, they did because none of them were nuns either Pats." Delia tried another stab at breaking the tension but Patsy merely continued to stare at her like she'd never seen her before.

"I hate that, I really hate that Delia.' She said distantly before bringing her head down to brush her lips against Delias. 'Did they kiss you like that?" Patsy asked solemnly. Delia tried to move her legs but Patsys were weighing her down. This wasn't light hearted, this wasn't about fun between friends; they really shouldn't be doing this...

"Yeah they did Pats but-" Patsy silenced her words with another kiss; deeper this time, Delia felt the ice thaw in her chest by increments as she relaxed into the familiar feelings kissing Patsy always created. The kiss was leading, it was full on words not spoken. Not yet. But the way Patsy was looking at her...

Patsy pulled away after a moment and Delia took the opportunity to breathe, the air felt oddly thick and clung to her lungs. Patsy was still hovering, considering her next move and Delia refused to back down from the challenge, her chin pointed outwards stubbornly. Patsys hands were hovering at the hem of Delias t-shirt, the tip of her finger trailing the line of skin betteen top and trousers making the hairs on Delias neck stand on end.

The next move was so quickly done Delia almost missed it as Patsy shoved the fabric of Delias t-shirt up to her neck almost violently to reveal her bra to the stinging air. Reverently, Patsys eyes followed her own hands movements as they shifted up to cover Delias breasts, the long fingers enclosed the cups perfectly and Delia watched transfixed as Patsy bit her lip.

It had always been a subject of personal amusement to Delia that Patsys interest in her breasts were more than a little obsessive at times. When they'd lived together Delia had very quickly found that a low cut top helped inordinately when deciding who took out the bins.

"Did you really let them touch the twins?" Patsy asked accusingly still watching Delias chest with a proprietary air. Delia nodded wordlessly as Patsy growled in frustration at her answer. Delia shivered at the sound. She loved that noise. Patsy bent her head down and pushed her face between Delias breasts, blowing out a stream of muffled words and dampening the skin.

"Thats... not... Delia!" Delia squirmed. Couldn't help it. It tickled. Laughing Delia tugged Patsy back up by her ear, unable to stop the giggle at her lovers disgruntled face.

"Bet they didn't do that." Patsy said with confidence, her eyes sparkling and Delia sighed stroking the line of Patsy nose as she rolled her eyes.

"No sweetheart, that's definitely your move; hard to replicate." Patsy seemed to mull this over as her hands pushed the bras cups out of the way to absentmindedly circle Delias nipple.

"These girls sound like idiots. Honestly Deels, you deserve far better." Delia felt her stomach muscles flutter at the sensations emanating from her chest. Patsys eyes were dark as she watched the Welshwoman; knowing exactly what she was doing.

"The pool was hardly huge, I work long hours Pats and it wasn't as though I was looking for anything." Admonished Delia, trying vainly to keep her voice level as Patsy continued to twiddle. Far too good at that miss Mount.

"Delia?' Patsy momentarily stopped and Delias eyes snapped up to meet the blue of Patsys at the hesitant tone. 'Did you love any of them?" The question was delivered in such a small voice Delia felt her heart stutter, Patsy looked as though a single word might break her. Delia sat up slightly on her hands so that Patsy was lifted somewhat and their faces were inches apart again as though proximity added weight to the already heavy words.

"No. I couldn't." They stared at each other for a moment letting the revelation settle between them and then Delia was being pushed back down as Patsy attacked her mouth with all the ferocity of someone clinging to a treasured thing thought lost.

Her breasts were momentarily abandoned as Patsys hands crept to the button of her trousers, scrabbling at the fly and pushing the heavy material down Delias hips.

"Did you spread your legs for them like you would for me?" Patsy groaned in her ear, Delia shivered raising her hips to meet the clever fingers, wanting Patsy to let it go. The other woman appeared annoyingly focused though and squeezed pointedly at Delias hip. Wanting what? Delia didn't know what to say anymore. Frustration bubbled.

"Yes. Okay? Is that what you want me to say Pats? Yes I let them." Patsy groaned and pushed her lips to Delias forehead heavily.

"Why? Why would you do that?" She mumbled thickly and Delia felt blood drain from her face as she answered honestly feeling a dull ache grow behind her eyes and her throat suddenly close up almost choking her as she whispered;

"Because you weren't there." 

Patsy seemed to flinch at Delias suddenly loud voice. Delia froze half wanting to leave and half wanting to stay.

"I should have come and got you.' Patsy said eventually, hands gentling as Delia pressed her face into a freckled shoulder, not wanting to see Patsys eyes any more. Not trusting either of them in this situation.

"You didn't though, I waited for you to turn up and make it right again but you never did Patsy." Patsy was pressing her groin into Delias, feathering kisses down Delias neck like she was branding her. Delia gasped as Patsy hooked a finger in her knickers and pulled at them experimentally.

"Do you want to take them off?" Delia asked tentatively, unsure if Patsy was ready to let her anger go yet.

"Yes, I really do." Patsy said through gritted teeth at Delias collar bone. Delia nodded fuzzily. She wanted that too. She wanted Patsy close as could be. Wanted the physical connection.

Patsys hands pulled at the material biting her lip and Delia felt like something was breaking as her knickers slipped down to meet her trousers. Patsys free hand was reaching to hold her head, keeping it where it was, unwilling to allow the connection to break.

"Those other women didn't know you like I do Delia.' Delia let her legs drop open as the heel of Patsys hand pressed down on her. 

'They don't know you always say you have one sugar in your tea but when you're tired you put three in and you drink it weak because your nan made it like that when you were little.' Delia couldn't fully concentrate, Patsy was pushing into her and the building pressure was making blood pound in her ears.

'They don't know you listen to crap Celine dion music when your sad, that you hate wearing slippers even in the winter so your feet are freezing when you go to bed.' Patsy slid her fingers into Delia almost gently, reaching so deeply Delia felt her spine straighten even as her hips raised up against the pinning weight, wanting more.

'They don't know your favourite films officer and a gentleman, they don't know your favourite colours green because it reminds you of home, they don't know you always carry sweets in your pocket, they don't know you Delia. They don't know you like I know you, they can't." Delia couldn't stop herself from moaning as they both set a rhythm. She let her arm curl around Patsys neck, pulling her closer, wanting to be in her skin.

"They're not me Deels. You can go where you want to but they'll never be me. It won't be us. How could it be? They don't love you like I love you." Delia gasped, her head pulling back to gape at Patsys declaration, her body shaking in lust or shock she couldn't tell. Patsy was watching her with her mouth half open, strands of hair over her forehead which was beading with sweat. Delia couldn't quite take everything in, Patsy had said it. She said she loved her. She said-

"Pats-" Delia couldn't get the words out quick enough, her breath stolen, as Patsy sped up suddenly, curling her hand, her arm blurring as she breathed raggedly. Delia could do little but push her knees tightly against Patsys hips and keep up with the pace Patsy had set her nails scrabbling at soft skin, marking Patsy in her turn.

"You're mine." Patsy whispered into Delias ear.

"Fuck Pats". Delia felt her body slide over the edge she was being pushed to. Patsy held her while she shook, Delia couldn't stop seeing those blue eyes, whether she closed her own or not. The burning image was scorched onto her retinas. Patsy had finally said it. She loved her. This moment was a rare perfect thing. The two of them closer than bodies could be. Delia wanted to frame it and never let it go. It was exactly right.

Quite abruptly, or so it seemed to the stables otherwise distracted occupants, the world moved.

In reality, the wall adjacent to the old rickety building exploded outwards in a shower of dust and debris. A trickle of strangely uniformed soldiers piled through the freshly hewn gap, letting off loud volleys of bullets in blind arcs along the compound ahead. Surprised shouts mingled with chattering gun fire as the British soldiers became aware of the invasion.

Chaos rubbed his spindly fingers together and smiled benevolently at its board. Lives danced on the spin of his coin.

The stables roof, no longer supported by its load bearing wall, collapsed into itself with a low screech of ancient wood against metal nails and decaying shingle.

Something square and large landed across the two figures as the roof descended over them.

There was a split second of recognition to see the strut of the roof crashing towards them. Instinctively Delia managed to grab Patsys head and shove it protectively in the hollow beside her before something heavy smashed into the side of her face. 

For Delia everything went dar-

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright think we've had enough fluff. Entering end stage really. Think there's six chapters left. Buckle up next chapters going to be bloody...
> 
> Hope no ones getting sick of this yet lol, thanks for sticking with me
> 
> SB


	27. Zippee dee doo daa, Zippadee ay - Patsy doesn't do poetry - my oh my what a wonderful day

"Delia! Delia!" 

Patsys frantic calls, peppered with choking coughs were unanswered as she peered blindly into inky black. The claustrophobic feeling of being trapped, face down in total darkness was overwhelming. She could feel something wet drip onto her neck and shivered in revulsion. Heaviness was everywhere, pain everything warring only with fear.

"Delia! Delia!" 

Delia wasn't answering and yet she'd been so near. Their perfect moment becoming nightmare with only a blur of speed as Delia had dragged her head down. Then screaming and shooting, the deafening roar as the building collapsed around them. 

Something long was laying across her legs, something else pressed against her back, her arms were trapped beneath her, uselessly weak against the crushing weight all around her.

"Delia! Delia Busby!" 

Nothing. No answer. A terrible possibility of why Delia had not answered filled her brain. Perhaps... perhaps Delia couldn't answer. Perhaps- She couldn't be... No, she wasn't dead. Delia Busby was alive Patsy told herself firmly. Trying to stem the rising panic long enough to force her head to turn, swivelling on the coarse bottom sheet. A friction burn started on the patch of skin that made up the turning point. To her left there was solid darkness where Delias body lay. To her right was where the wall once stood. 

It was clear that it stood no longer and through the crossings of jagged wood a far off gap let in tiny spots of light from the outside world. Patsy stared at it thinking hard. Experimentally, she pulled at her arms and felt them bit by bit come to rest beneath her chest. Breathing through her nose Patsy lifted up. Something sharp scratched at her neck but the pile moved. 

Delia seemed to wobble against Patsys side and the cot gave way suddenly with a screech, dropping them both a foot closer to the floor as the metal poles wedged together. Patsy cringed and stiffened, braced for falling wood but nothing happened. The weight dissappeared and she felt the things that had pinned her fall away. 

Cautiously Patsy twisted and saw that the main wooden beam had caught on the wall and was holding most of the wreckage off of them. It was impossible to fully assess Delia in this light but Patsy placed shaking fingers to her neck, moving around until she felt a thrum of a pulse there. Almost collapsing again in relief Patsy kicked at rubble. The spots of light got brighter.

She could do this. She would get them out of this.

Curling one arm around Delias waist Patsy dragged her dead weight along the floor in fits and starts towards the light.

Uneven moments hampered progress where Patsy would tense as something creaked above their heads but eventually Patsy had her legs out enough to lean in and pull with all her might. They both fell into sunlight together in a slithering heap.

Patsy was momentarily dazzled by the sunshine, red spots impeding her vision as she squinted down at the still unconscious Delia. There was a lot of blood. The right side of her head was open and bleeding freely. A mess of hair tangled in the drying blood and was matting there, they might need to shave it. A purplish bruise was already forming around her eye socket. The awkward bend to her nose suggested a break. She'd been struck pretty hard by the look of it, too busy protecting Patsy to think about herself the fool, but Patsy knew that head wounds bled to high heaven. The biggest issue was the rattling breath that could finally be heard. It was weak. 

Patsy knelt painfully and pushed at Delias chin, opening her mouth to peer into her throat. Something glugged thickly at the opening to the epiglottis, half covering it. Delia could asphyxiate before anything else touched her. In a rush Patsy pressed her lips to the crusted mouth and sucked. The congealed filth flooded her mouth and she spat it out onto the ground while Delia spluttered and gasped; her airways open again fully.

Peering around Patsy looked for any of the others. There was gunfire from the direction of the parade ground but no sign of life close by. Patsy considered Delia and her ripped shirt. She'd pushed that top up less than an hour before; the juxtaposition was jarring to say the least. Staring at the leaking graze on Delias scalp Patsy made an executive decision and pulled up her trousers before beginning to tear strips from her top. She could be indecent and alive; the only compromise on Delias wellbeing Patsy was willing to make at this precise moment in time.

Once the strips were wound around the cut Patsy looked about for a place to take them. The tea house wasn't too far. Patsy could make it just. She had to make it. The glaring realisation that they were half naked, weaponless and out in the open made her rush clumsily as she reached to grab hold of Delia and lift her in a firemans carry. The weight was only slightly more than the med bag and equipment Patsy told herself firmly even as her leg gave a jerk. Looking down she realised numbly she'd cut herself badly in the wreckage. Her left upper thigh was darkening her trousers steadily. 

Fucking perfect.

Staggering Patsy managed to get them past the row of toilets before something struck her back. Stumbling, her grip loosened and Delia tumbled to the floor limply even as Patsy was propelled forwards. 

A warm body was pressing against her, large sweaty fingers creeping around to squeeze her neck, nails clawing at the delicate skin. Patsy instinctively kicked out behind her and felt something hard crack under her boots heel. A mans voice huffed loudly near her right ear and then they were falling, Patsys injured leg buckling.

Twisting, the two figures fell to the floor scrabbling for purchase, for a way to gain supremacy. Patsy managed another kick which missed this time as a bony knuckled punch snapped her head backwards. Flowers of agony blossomed along her cheekbone but she ignored the pain. Too busy staring into her attackers dark brown eyes. There was no sign of mercy in those depths. She saw clearly the veins in the whites of the sciera before she stuck her fingers into the sockets, pushing down as far as they would go. The eyeballs felt oddly spongy at her touch.

The man yelled, screaming something in Russian Patsy could not understand and punched out again wildly. Patsy managed to avoid the most of this second blow; only taking it on her ear this time which none the less throbbed horribly at the impact. Drawing her hands away instinctively the man spat at her; the warm spittle scattering Patsys face. Patsy drew back her head and butted it hard against his nose.

Something snapped and fresh blood dribbled over his lips. The man roared and Patsy flinched as he knee'd her directly between the legs with a yell of rage. It quickly became apparent that this particular combat move hurt just as much on girls as it did on boys. The pain made her gasp, her eyes momentarily closing as the man pulled away, groping for something on the ground beside them.

Opening her eyes Patsy had a split second to take in the gun glinting in the mans hand, moving upwards to point at her face, the mans fingers tensing to squeeze the trigger. To kill.

A deafening shot blew out the drums in Patsys ears with twin popping noises; another shooter had been faster than the Russian. The mans head imploded outwards as a bullet soared through it. His body flopped sideways off Patsys prone body to twitch on the floor uselessly, blood streaming out the gaping throat and spilling onto Patsy like an over filled cup.

Horrified, Patsy shifted away on her bum, hands reflexively reaching out to grab the gun still clutched in the dead mans hands. It was slick and hot but a weapon at least.

Gasping, Patsy turned over and crawled to the place where Delia lay in a crumpled heap a little way off as a familiar voice flew at her. Billy was running towards them, half bent over, his gun their saviour apparently.

His boots skidded on the floor scattering stones everywhere as he drew to a sudden stop by the two nurses. There was blood all across his jacket front, a sleeve had been ripped cleanly off to reveal a bloody forearm and his lip was swollen from an indeterminable blow. Patsy did not think he had ever looked better to her as he did now. Not even bothering to ask what had happened he pulled Patsy to her feet before bending to lift Delia in his arms.

"Tea house." He said tightly and Patsy nodded, pointing her newly acquired rifle left and right, poised to shoot anyone who looked even vaguely threatening as they crossed the compound in a close together line.

The doors to the tea house were thick at least Patsy thought helplessly as she closed them behind her. Billy was already depositing Delia gently to the floor where she continued to dream the dreamless sleep of the severely concussed. He then turned to a pile of kit in the corner, snatching up a black walkie talkie and hollering down the mouthpiece their situation; that they had two seriously wounded soldiers. Patsy frowned at the plural, not seeing how she could be considered seriously injured by any stretch of the imagination.

A scattered response chattered back. 

Hold tight. Help is on its way. 

Billy sighed, dropping the handset to the floor and sunk down the wall. 

Patsy got to her knees and checked Delias throat again. More congealed mess waited for her. Must be the nose break, she was breathing in the blood. She repeated her previous sucking and Billy watched with undisguised shock.

"Oi do you want to get a room. Bloody minging. Don't mind me or anything red but doesn't look like jocks looking for some of your stuff at the minute." Patsy wheeled about, fire in her belly, spitting out copper tasting foulness as she went but her retort died as she took in Billys features properly.

Pale, sweaty, his chest beating in uneven breaths as he gasped. His face was too white, his lips very pink. Patsys eyes travelled to the stain on his jacket... the big, dark, brown stain encompassing his entire chest. Their eyes met in a moment of complete understanding.

"How bad is it?" Patsy asked calmly, one hand still clutching Delias arm, trying to draw some strength from her closeness. Billy gritted his teeth and rocked, butting the back of his head against the wall.

"Bad as it gets I reckon. I was on the west tower.' Patsy took a step towards him, unsure what she could do without any medical supplies but Billy waved her away. 'No point red, you can see straight through me now, big bullet... I don't', Billy gulped, his eyes burning even as he tried to grin, 'I don't think I'm going to make it home red.' He chuckled weakly, 'good thing really, my mums going to kill me when she finds out I've died." 

One of his legs twitched as the extremities started to shut down. Patsy couldn't understand how he had managed to carry Delia the distance. She watched him open mouthed but he was ignoring her, his eyes fixed on Delia; nodding to himself tiredly.

"Pretty girl that one you got there; spotted her straight away. My mum would have liked her; saved my brother on exercise and tits you could really get stuck into...' He sighed wistfully wiping sweat from his face. 'What a waste." Patsy chose not to reply, agreeing privately about the tits but focusing on his chest. The patch was growing steadily. Droplets were trailing down his forearm and splashing onto the floor, tumbling off his outstretched hands. His jaw was slack as he seemed to fall into his own thoughts, misty eyed.

"I had a girl back home; really pretty one too; arse you could bounce on... Huge eyes, used to look right through me.' He pouched out his top lip unable to stop a smile. 'Loved her since I was twelve with scabby knees; used to kick footballs at her across the playground.' his eyes softened in recollection and Patsy took the opportunity in light of his distraction to press her fingers to Delias throat again, reassuring herself she was still with them.

'Would have married her like that'. He tried to click his fingers together but it didn't work properly, his arm flopped down before the fingers connected. They both watched it fall knowing it was a bad sign. Billy doggedly went on, seeming to want to ignore what was happening to him.

"Anyway... All went a bit Jeremy Kyle to tell you the truth. She ended up shacking up with a podiatrist called Stephenie.' He bit his lip and Patsy felt a creep of embarrassment run up her neck as she noticed his cheeks were wet. Tears running tracks in the dust. Billy made a half hearted attempt to wipe them away and only succeeded in smearing blood over his cheeks. He seemed to be considering if he should say something and rocked more, his face creasing in grief until it burst out of him.

"I've got a little girl with her... She was already up the duff when she walked out. My kid calls this Stephenie her 'other mum'. She'll be three this June and I've never seen her. Apparently, they thought I might confuse her.' Groaning, he spit on the floor, smacking his head hard on the wall, expelling out pained breaths, his throat convulsing. 'She's going to think her daddy didn't care.' 

He levelled a hard glare at Patsy as though she had accused him of it, 'I want my pension or whatever they give to go to my mum and her... She's called Evie. No Y at the end either, E-V-I-E, Evie Jane.' He said her name the way priests spoke about their Gods.

'My mum sees her sometimes, she's like that talks to all my exes, shows me the pictures on her phone. Do you know my little girls so smart?' He wiped at his nose noisily, his breathing shallow, 'just like her mum like that, she's got gold stickers on everything because they're saying she's gifted. Told my mum she wants to be an astronaut ballerina dinosaur hunter when she gets older. Kids going to be all kinds of trouble when she's big. Stephenie won't know whats hit her." Fat tears pooled his cheeks and fell onto his chest but he no longer seemed aware. Billys speech was starting to slur, the eyes growing less bright like the embers of a dying a star. Patsy had seen enough patients in end of life stages to know the signs that he was teetering at an edge everyone found eventually.

Releasing Delia she walked over on her knees to grasp Billys hand, squeezing it tightly. Some things were not a luxury, not dying alone was not a luxury. Patsy felt the weak pulse surreptitiously. The sluggish blood was running out of strength.

"She sounds like she's got your adventure spirit then Billy." Billy looked down bleerily at their linked hands and gave a sighing laugh, his mouth contorting as though in pain. 

"Make sure they tell her that her daddy loved her red. Promise me?" He squeezed her hand weakly and Patsy nodded solemnly.

"I promise Billy, I'll tell them. I'll tell them all." Billy nodded, his head slumping on his tired neck. Patsy became aware she was kneeling in Billys blood. It stuck her knees to the floorboards. His eyes were blinking, trying to stay as long as he could, fighting it.

"... Tell my brother to delete my internet history; little shit owes me that... Tell him to find a good lady, none of these girls trying to trap him, tell him to look after mum. He's all she's going to have now. He's got to be the man, drink the shit tea and put up her shelves. Tell him I love him... And tell my mum... Tell her she should try meeting someone, dad was a long time ago and she deserves a bit of happiness...tell her, not to worry, tell her that I'll sort her out when I get up there.' He couldn't lift his arm anymore so settled for a jerk of his chin towards the ceiling. 'Tell her I loved her... Tell her she was the best mum. Will you tell her red?" 

Patsy nodded feeling her throat thicken,

"I promise Billy, I'll tell them." Billy looked at her, his young face prematurely lined and smiled weakly.

"Don't forget me now red, you've got to tell them..." Patsy wiped her eyes, squeezing as hard as she could on Billys slippery hand, his grip was non existent now just an assembly of deadened fingers in hers.

"I will' Patsy promised firmly, wanting to make him believe her, 'I promise Billy. I'll tell them everything, I'll make sure your little girl knew how brave her daddy was, I'll tell her how you saved us, I'll make sure..." She tailed away as she realised her words were only for her now. The man before her was too still. The chest no longer juddering. 

Time had run out on Billy Bassett.

Billys eyes were empty, reflecting only the filmy light above their heads. The thing that was Billy had left, the body was just an empty vessel abandoned. The ghost of his final smile still hovering on his lips but there were some things a nurse knows instinctively. Patsy felt a bit of her break as she stared at their still connected hands.

Gently, without fear, she reached out and closed the mans eyelids staring at the slack face just as boots pounded on the ground outside the door. Her eyes snapped to the doorway, imagining legions of Russians preparing to burst in; heart in her mouth. Neither Delia nor Billy would be able to help her now. 

Patsy was alone.

Making up her mind lighting fast she raced to Delia and dragged her next to Billy with a Patsy sized gap between the two of them. Jostling into the small space Patsy looped both Delias and Billys arms through hers. Delias limp head sagged onto her shoulder. Patsy could smell her shampoo like the call of home.

Patsy didn't want to die alone either.

Slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible, she checked the rifles magazine for ammo. Not much left there she noted dully, less than six shots... and she was not that good at aiming either.

From behind the door voices burbled, deep and menacing. Patsy tried to calm her breathing, trying to keep her nerves under wraps as she aimed the rifle towards the door. If she was lucky she'd be enough of a distraction that the others got here in time to get their bodies. Delia might yet survive. Mrs Busby could curse Patsy for many things but Patsy would dare her to say she didn't love her daughter. Patsy would do anything to ensure Delia got home; dead or alive. Delias family would at least care...

The door burst open in a sharp bang, the door slamming against the wall and swinging back as bodies flew into the room. Patsy managed one shot which thankfully missed its intended target as she recognised British uniform. Recognised too the serious faced front man-

"Paxo! You scared the shit out of me!" Patsys voice was oddly hoarse as she gasped, the fear subsiding only minimally. Paxo did not give an answer, looking down at the trio slumped against the wall, scanning features.

"Any of them still alive?" He asked slowly, his eyes resting on Billy, already guessing correctly the answer. Patsy licked her lips, a burning sensation behind her eyes.

"Billy took a hit, died a few minutes ago. There was nothing I could do. The stables collapsed in on us, Delias out cold but I think she'll be alright. How are we going to get out?" Paxo swallowed but made no further gesture of surprise or pain at the news of the death of his comrade. Patsy wondered how many faces would be missing when they started counting again...

"Choppers are already on route, twenty minutes out. We're holding the east border still and they should land there ok. Don't think the Russians have anything too big up their sleeves or they'd have hit it with us straight out. How bad are you hurt?" Patsy grit her teeth and got to her feet unsteadily. Her thigh still burned and Patsy knew it would be a packing job when they got to Deprechen.

"I'll be fine, just don't ask me to play the violin any time soon. My top E's going to be a bit flat." Paxo smiled thinly and indicated to two others to take Billy. Then he flicked to two more for Delia. Patsy stiffened, her arm locking down on Delias forearm. 

A body builder with a tub of grease and a crowbar was not going to part the Welshwoman from Patsys grip right now.

"I've got her Paxo." Paxo eyed Patsy dispassionately, looking pointedly at Patsys thigh.

"Your legs totalled and I'm not wasting more resources carrying you as well when you fall, give her to the others Mount, you need to trust your team, we won't leave one of our own, your girls safe." Patsy blinked at him slowly as the others approached, holding his gaze as she reluctantly let Delia slip away from her.

Paxo nodded and pulled Patsy to her feet as Delia was tacked to a board, pointing to Patsys rifle.

"That thing loaded?" 

"It's got four shots, enough to get us there with everyone else." Paxo smiled grimly.

"Who said girls weren't mean mother fuckers eh?" Someone coughed pointedly making Patsy and Paxo look around.

"Base radio'd, ETA ten minutes, we've got to move." Paxo nodded again, beckoning the squad together near the door, his stance oozing authority. 

"Move fast, don't show mercy because you are not going to receive any. No one try to be a hero because you'll die and I don't need any more funerals in the diary. Dead weight in the middle, shooters circle around. Ready?" The tiny squad shouldered rifles, the stretcher bearers heaved their burdens. Patsy forced herself to remain calm as Delia was raised higher.

Easy target.

They left the hut in a tight cluster. Gun fire echoed off to one side but they ignored it. Hurrying on muffled feet towards the landing site, towards safety.

The landing square had previously been a patch of tarmac for a jeep. The jeep was over turned and heads poked out from behind it as they approached. Patsy felt something whir near her ear and picked up pace, actually reaching out to push at the man in fronts shoulder blade.

Run, run, run.

The air was already being whipped around her face as three choppers began descending down. 

Bullets peppered the ghosts of their steps. Screams and the sound of dead meat being punched rent the air.

Dyer was waving them past the jeeps front, phone pressed against her ear as the squad panted and turned to look the way they had come.

Bodies slumped where they had fallen. It could so easily have been them...

Getting into the choppers was almost easy compared to everything else. More bullets tracked their movements as they scrambled through the hovering doors. There had been a sticky moment when a bullet had hissed as it was shot in the cab of the chopper and they had been momentarily cascaded in acrid smoke as a fire extinguisher had burst open before Paxo had had the sense to throw it out the doorway; managing to it two Russians in the chest doing so. They fell like dominos.

The journey was a frantic blur of Patsy ripping bandages, pumping chests, checking anything she could. Attaching oxygen masks. Her fingers shook as she wrapped the plastic backing to Delias mouth and lips. Her chest still rose even as her eyes flickered beneath the lids. She would live. Some though... Some wouldn't.

Patsy could smell death and blood so strongly she'd have retched if her stomach had anything in it. Bile filled her throat until her leg gave way and she was given orders to sit beside Delia. 

Those who had hope still hoped in vain as more lights faded within the cab. Lives snuffed out like candle fires.

Patsy had no idea about the other two choppers...

Debrecen loomed like a strange city up ahead. Patsy couldn't help but think of the wizard of Oz, she didn't feel much like Dorothy. No wizard there who would fix everyones hurts.

Landing was bumpy and Patsys leg throbbed as she wrapped her arms around Delia while they jolted.

Delia hated landing in planes...

Medics waited at the pad, ambulances stained the air blue with their noisy flashing. Patsy let herself be pulled out onto the ground and limped out of the way, following Delia as she was bundled into the vans backs with the other cat A's.

The walking wounded followed in jeeps, Patsy didn't even have the strength to scan the scant crowd. Too many faces were missing. The atmosphere was so solemn they could have passed for a funeral processing as the hospital grew out of the skyline. Patsy recognised a few people wandering past them as nurses, a few orderlies. 

The smell of bleach was so wonderful Patsy briefly considered dropping to her knees as the double doors swept open to admit them into the hospital atrium. Maybe she would have if she didn't know for certain she'd never get back up; her thigh was going numb.

They waited in the area assigned for them ahead of their arrival.

Patsy knew the medical team would be assessing, stabilising, saving who they could and took a measure of comfort in the fact that Delia was one of their own; they'd look out for her.

Hours seemed minutes, useless flowing showers of time as one by one people were called through to be patched up. Patsy waited impatiently for news, for some chunk of knowledge. Trixie, Barbara, Shelagh, someone, anyone should surely let her know what was happening. Trixie, at least, should come out from behind the door to give an update dammit.

And yet no one did. Patsy remained as she always had, alone and lost.

Eventually, the tension was too much and Patsy stalked away, slumping on the bench outside, sucking in clean air as noise of bustling happened behind her.

She'd kissed Delia on this bench. It felt like years ago.

She'd had one packet of cigarettes left before hell took a holiday in Hungary. Now the box was crumpled in her pocket, the paper cylinders just so many mushy piles of sodden tobacco. Patsy threw the box away in temper. She couldn't catch a break if it was aimed at her head.

Something small and light landed in her lap and she started, nerves fraying. Trixie slid beside her, somehow creeping up and Patsy looked down at a new shiny pack of malboro's. Trixies blond hair looked soft and clean in the yellow artificial light. Patsy didn't bother with thanks, merely ripped away celaphane wrapping and slid out a fag. Lighting it slowly and letting her lips pull on the solid mass.

Heavy smoke filled her lungs and she sighed as nicotine trickled into her system with each pull.

"She's in surgery, bleed on the lungs, ones definitely collapsed... she's better than some, worse than others. Scan showed no bleeding on the brain, so although it looks bad and she'll have a mother of a headache when she comes round she'll be mentally intact.' Patsy felt cool fingers clasp her own and saw a flash of Billys dead face at the sensation. Hastily she pulled her hand away, not caring if it hurt Trixie.

Ice was forming in her chest like a cancer.

'She's going to be okay Patsy." Trixie said softly. Patsy blew out a smoke ring, staring ahead.

"She was hit with a building, she's in surgery and she's going to find out her friends are dead when she comes round. That's not okay Trix." Trixie seemed to hesitate, her hand hovering over Patsys knee.

"I could fix up your leg while we wait Pats? Come inside, you need looking after too." The words were cajolingly and kind and Patsy felt nauseous at the sentiment; Patsy did not need cosseting. Patsy had always been fine on her own. She shook her head violently.

"Not until Delias out of surgery Trix. I can't do anything until then... just... keep me informed Trix, please?" Trixie watched her with shrewed eyes before placing a kiss to Patsys temple with a swift shake of her pretty head.

She left. Patsy smoked until the tip burnt her fingers, dropped the cigarette, lit up another.

Patsys thoughts circled uselessly, exhausted and numb. 

Billys mother would be getting a knock on the door tomorrow morning; perhaps tonight. His little girl would wake up without a father. His brother suddenly an only child. Delia had said the brother was in the army too... God, it was all such a mess.

Billy pleading for her to tell his daughter he loved her played over and over in her battered mind. She thought of her own father; somewhere unreachable. Always unreachable. 

She'd tried to send word of her intentions to join the army the day after she'd signed up alongside half the London. His personal phone had been busy as usual; she'd left a message with Annette, her fathers secretary. A good luck card, most likely bought by Annette, had waited for her when she finished basic and came home on her free weekend. The bastard hadn't even signed his name underneath the hallmark poem he paid £2 for. The copy and pasted stamp fit signature at the bottom was not unexpected even if she hadn't been able to completely shake off a sense of dissapointment. Patsy had thrown it in the bin alongside the other junk mail.

Richard Mount would not mourn Patsys death any more than he had mourned Faiths. Faith would have been upset if she'd been here to find out Patsy had died but knowing Faith she would have sort refuge in a needle somewhere.

Patsy smoked the cigarette, discarded it when there was nothing left and lit up the next. Chainsmoking even as her chest tightened.

Everybody left her she thought darkly, her ruminations twisting into self doubt and self pity. Her mother, Faith... even Delia left in the end.

Delia left in London, she left Patsy on this bench, she tried to leave on a mine field at the outpost. Even at this very minute she was almost leaving as surgeons worked on her. One day she would succeed; they always did.

These women in Patsys life she loved. Her mother had said she'd always be with her because thats the lie you tell small children when cancers eating you from the inside out. Patsy hadn't been allowed to go to the funeral; Richard Mount had wanted no distraction from his own grief. Faith had asked over and over where their mother was, seeming to believe she'd gone on holiday or to the day relief hospice.

Faith had said she loved Patsy, had said she would try but she'd given up... It was all a lie, the love, the promises. Patsy alone was never enough to keep anyone with her. Useless, cagey, tongue tied. Delia would leave eventually dissapointed.

Delia would leave.

Delia would leave again and Patsy didn't know if she'd survive the loss. A lifes worth of dissapointment mingled with fear.

She wasn't built for happy endings and Delia was kind and understanding and perfect and Patsy understood to her gut that there was no way on this earth she, Patience Elizabeth Mount, deserved something like that.

Delia would leave her.

She'd struggled with these thoughts every time Delia had gone on patrol, doubt and fear crippling her pathetically until Delia would return and it would be as though she brought sunshine to wash away the shadows but now...

They were back. Debrecen was a tight knit camp. A relationship would be impossible and Delia would want Patsy to be better than she was. She'd get bored, she'd leave all over again.

Waking up in London finding half the wardrobes empty, no note just an absence of Delia. Just thinking about it made her sway.

Patsy had never been enough for anyone. Never good enough to fight for. Delia wasn't going to leave today perhaps but she would someday. For all she knew Delia had been lying about that stupid letter. Leticia, or lemon, whatever her name was might be waiting without baggage and an ability to communicate well. Delia might be tempted, might already have been playing Patsy for a fool and why not? Patsy was dispensable.

Patsy smoked the cigarette, dropped it, lit another. The pack grew lighter as the pile of butts clustered around her feet.

She loved Delia. She meant it, she meant everything but Delias love had limits. Patsy had reached them before; she could reach them again and then what?

Someone walked out and Patsy looked up to see Babs wandering over looking concerned. Patsy tried to smile but her face seemed to be rebelling and only managed a sort of grimace. Barbara gulped perceptibly and Patsy felt a wave of dissapointment in herself. Who could really love her long term? Even her friends were scared of her.

"Pats? Delias out of surgery. Trixie sent me and she said to tell you... erm, no ones an island and if you don't let her patch you up she's going to make you take her shopping for handbags when we get home... And, she won't give you any more cigarettes." Patsy stared at Barbara who fidgeted awkwardly. 'We just care about you Pats" She muttered to her feet and Patsy felt a tingle of confusion.

Why did they care?

Patsy couldn't quite formulate a response so gave up and stuffed the half empty packet in her jacket. Squeezing Barbaras shoulder as she swept past Patsy wandered back into the hospital. The waiting area was abandoned save for Trixie leaning by the door, gloves in hand and a stubborn look plastered over her beautiful face.

"In" She said sternly pointing through the door and Patsy did as she was told; knowing she wouldn't be told where Delia was until she let Trixie titivate any way.

The little treatment room had already been set up with blue paper on the plastic bed. Slapping noises carried as Trixie pulled on latex loudly.

"On the bed with you, trousers off." She said briskly and Patsy rolled her eyes. If Trixie ever had a brain transplant she'd make a very good lipstick lesbian.

Patsy stepped out her ruined cargos and hopped on the bed like a good little patient, her thigh stinging as she lifted it off the ground.

Trixie turned to her with a bowl of water, sterastrips and kidney bowl full of swabs and stitches. Lovely.

Patsy lay as still as possible, trying not to hiss as the antiseptic got into the gash a few inches wide on her upper leg. Trixie worked efficiently and with minimal hesitations; preferring to be thorough over sensitive which Patsy appreciated even if she didn't say anything. Her head still swam with thoughts of Delia, imagining fairwell scenes and circling on the inevitableness of goodbyes.

It had been said by others over the course of Patsys life that she dealt badly with her feelings. Personally, Patsy had never been able to agree. Emotions happened to everyone; that was an acceptable fact. But with emotions came the responsibility to remain logical and realistic rather than overly romantic and impulsive. She could never forget how much loving her mother had destroyed her father. How much loving Faith had destroyed her. 

Love hurt. Period. 

Love terrified Patsy. Always had and more than anything else Patsy knew she loved Delia Busby. It was all consuming, it spanned years. She wanted Delia like a drug and Delia could never understand how much loving Delia terrified Patsy. It meant trusting someone with everything... and Delia had already left once.

Snap.

Trixie was slapping the gloves off, the empty fingers stretching as she pulled. The pink tinged water in the kidney bowl was discarded as Trixie rummaged in her pocket a look of concentration filling her face as she pulled out a rather rusted pound coin and slid it along the mattress towards Patsy. Patsy blinked down at it non plussed.

"It's not a penny but given you've said less than twenty words to me since you arrived covered in blood and Delia knocked out, I thought it would cost a bit more than the standard penny for your thoughts."

Patsy smiled thinly and got to her feet, testing the strength of the stitches. Trixie was good she had to admit it.

"Nothing to say, Russians turned up, everything went bad Trix." People died, Delia got hurt. Delia got hit by a collapsing building as soon as I told her I love her. If that's not a sign right there then what is?

Trixie reached out and pinned Patsys chin, holding it very tightly.

"Pats' Trixie started lightly as though the conversation was flowing easily and they were chatting over dinner, 'I love you like a sister, we've known each other a very long time so understand that I will always be there for you.' Patsy blinked, unable to speak as Trixie went on, steel in her voice now. 'I don't know whats happened out there, you clearly don't want to talk about it but Delia is my patient. So I'm warning you now, don't be an arse because if I find out you have been I will personally rip you a new hole. I get you two have a history but you love each other. Don't go all withdrawn with her. She's going to need you." 

Patsy flinched at her friends presumption and pushed the restraining hand away harshly.

"She doesn't need someone like me Trix. She needs someone who knows what to do, who can give her what she deserves." Trixie was watching her sadly, picking up the kidney bowl.

"You are what she needs Patsy. You're the only person here who doesn't believe it... Just don't do anything stupid Pats. You both deserve to be happy." Patsy rocked on her heels feeling exposed and hen pecked.

"Just tell me where she is Trix." Trixie watched her carefully before sighing and stepping out of the way.

"Bay 9. They should have extubated her by now." 

Patsy didn't say anything else. She didn't want to be told any more free advice. Trixie didn't understand. It was easy for her to say these things but it didn't make it true.

Delias room was off to one side. Her chart was pocketed in a plastic holder attached to the door. Patsy pulled it out and scanned the notes. Calming as she read the stats. Delia really would be fine. The woman seemed to have nine lives.

Swallowing as she stared at the wood Patsy moved to open the door before hesitating and withdrawing her hand. She knocked slowly.

"Yes?" 

Heart pounding Patsy opened the door. Delia was sitting up on a small mountain of pillows. A tray on wheels was standing on an angle holding a paper plate with stale cheese sandwiches, a jug of water and a cup with a straw sticking out. Delia looked more woe begone than she had when Patsy had last seen her. 

The bruise had come out in full force, purplish and green, the left eye was swollen shut and her lips was cut. There was a bandage on her head and someone had gowned her. It had flowers on.

She'd hate it. 

Her face lit up when she took in who was visiting and smiled that full teeth smile that made Patsys guts flip flop. It was almost indecent that someone could look that appealing with her face mashed up in a hospital stock outfit. 

Expectantly Delia held out her arms and Patsy was powerless to deny that blind trusting spark in her eyes. She crossed the floor in four strides and wrapped her arms around Delias neck. She still smelled like home; Patsy squeezed gingerly not wanting to hurt her anymore than she was already going to. There was a poster stuck to the wall, Patsy forced herself to read about the clinicians right to refuse treatment over the dark curls, forcing herself not to weaken.

"Pats. What happened?" Patsy closed her eyes. She loved that voice. She loved this woman so much and she was so scared. So very very scared of loving her. 

Casually she released Delia and felt Delia allow it through a huff of dissapointment.

"Russians. The Russians happened. They blew out the wall next to the stables. You hit your head. We got out just in time but it was a close thing Deels. We were lucky." Delia was staring uncomprehendingly at her. Patsy could hear the cogs turning as she took in the truth of it. Patsy leaned back, fighting the urge to wrap her arms around Delia again. She needed distance.

"Did everyone get out?" Delia craned her neck even as she asked it as though she was looking for more people. Patsys heart faltered as she took in the hopeful expression. Delia was always the hopeful one.

"Nearly everyone... there were fatalities. I'm so sorry sweetheart, Billy didn't make it. I know you were friends. He was shot when they broke into the camp, there was nothing I could do." The colour was fading from Delias face. Devastation and exhaustion faded the smile.

I'm so sorry baby.

"Billy' She rubbed at her face, 'you bloody idiot." Her lip started to wobble and she reached out to pull insistently on Patsys arm, tugging her back. Patsy pulled away and Delia looked up surprised.

"We shouldn't... not here Delia. It's not right." Delia was frowning, her good eye full of tears and Patsy felt so wretched she couldn't make her brain function.

"Not right?... What- Pats look at me." She couldn't, she couldn't look at Delia because if she did she wouldn't be able to leave. She couldn't do this. Patsy wanted-

"We need to... cool it a bit Deels. We're back now, things are different." Silence was her answer and eventually Patsy was forced to sneak a look through her lashes. Delia was staring at her open mouthed.

"Different." She repeated faintly and Patsy shrunk from the tremor of betrayal. 

"It was... really good. I had fun but... we both knew it wasn't forever right?" God, she knew it sounded bad as she said it but there was no way out now. Delias face had slackened as though Patsy had slapped her and now she sat staring at her hands still as a statue. A muscle twitching in her cheek.

"I still care about you.' Care? God she was a coward, she loved her. Why couldn't she just say it? She'd already said it less than twelve hours ago. 

Delias fist clenched on the bedclothes, squeezing the blanket convulsively.

'I don't want to lose you." I don't want to lose any of you. Delia I'm so scared, I thought... I thought-

"Get out." 

Patsy stared at Delia surprised by the dismissal. The cold voice. Stepping forward Patsy tried to take Delias hand, not knowing how to fix this. The monitors beeped at her ominously as blood pressure and heartbeat rose in dramatic climbs.

"Deels?" Delia seemed to physically recoil at Patsys soft call and then the anger finally broke through her calm facade and she was sitting up in bed again, her face almost murderous and twisted with rage.

"Get out! Get! Out! Go away Patsy! Get out!" Delias hands slipped to the tray beside her and Patsy had enough prescence of mind to duck as a jug of water whirled over her head. Water splashed over the walls and Patsy as the plastic cracked and split on impact on the hard linoleum floor. 

Delia was already reaching beside her again to search for more missiles when Patsy looked up at her, her chest heaving, still shouting. The machines were whirring loudly, warning lights informed them both that its patient was in distress.

Technology keeping score of the damage Patsy had done.

Patsy fled, feet slipping slightly on the wet floor. Managing to shut the door to Delias room as she scrambled out just in time to deflect another unknown object flung at Patsys retreating back. Blindly Patsy jogged down the hall, cold sweat breaking out on her back as fluorescent lights from bays hit her eyes while the sound of Delias shouts grew fainter and fainter.

Trixie was in one of the last bays, leaning over a blonde soldier and she looked only fractionally less severe and pained than Delias had been as she spotted Patsy flash down the hallway.

Fucking hell Patience you really know how to piss women off.

Delias hurt face, the betrayal there was imprinted on her minds eye. Patsy didn't want to be associated with it, didn't want to know she had created that expression but knew that her own fears had just destroyed everything.

Patsy managed to get to a porta loo and slipped into a cubicle. Allowing herself to be hidden by a thick layer of blue plastic. Solitude in a weak form. She was unwilling to brave the barracks yet, to see Chummy and Barbara, to be somewhere accessible by Trixie. They'd want to know how Delia was. Patsy doubted 'Physically fine but absolutely hopping angry' was going to cheer anyone up.

Slowly she became aware that her vision was blurring, she couldn't breathe, her chest felt tight as though thick steel bands were winching around her rib cage and her heart. God her heart was breaking all over again and it was all her fault. She couldn't breathe. The nurse in her head must have been the reason why she placed her face between her knees as she rocked because God knew her working brain didn't seem to be functioning properly. All she could see was Delia. All she wanted...

Fucking idiot Patience Elizabeth Mount.

She heard her father demanding better of her, her mothers soothing sighs, Faith sneering, calling her stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. It hurt to always be right about herself. They had all been right about her. Patsy was no ones hero. Delia deserved better, so so so much better and Patsy couldn't be that. But she wanted...

The tears came as she knew they would, sharp and burning and she was glad of the isolation. She didn't want to be seen like this; broken and breaking. She'd hurt Delia, Delia would hate her and maybe she'd move on. Patsy pictured Delia with the stupid woman who'd sent that sickly love letter. She sobbed harder hating herself even more for her own cowardice. 

Stupid. 

There was no way of knowing how long she remained shielded in the cubicle. When the tears ran out she rested her hot face on the cool wall. Her face felt snotty as though she'd developed a head cold. Her body shivered like she was sickening for something. When she wiped her face and got to her feet she stumbled, her legs week from fatigue.

Entering the outer area Patsy splashed her face with cool water, not able to meet her own gaze in the chipped mirror bolted above the sink. Washing her hands took time, she followed the 13 step guide pinned to the wall to distract herself from the misery threatening to overwhelm her all over again. The ritual was familiar and soothing. Washing away the day her mother had told them when her and Faith were very small.

Washing away the day... Delias face; betrayed and hurting... Washing away the day... "Get out!"  
Washing away... washing... 

Patsy bowed at the waist, her heart breaking with every memories repetition, pressing her fingertips to her eyes harshly to stab away the tears.

It was done. She'd done it.

Panting Patsy pushed away from the sink and walked slowly to the barracks.

Sleep. Sleep was the only refuge left to her it seemed.

Fuck. What the hell had she done?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peers behind really big rock*
> 
> Look, I know this is going to piss people off but this was always the plan. Last hurdle peeps... Last hurdle.
> 
> In other news; schools out, teachers are slipping into children purchased chocolate comas everywhere and teenagers are snogging in mcdonalds car parks at the prospect of freedom. Stay cheerful peeps.
> 
> Songs for this chapter
> 
> Adia- Sarah mclachlan  
> If your going through hell - Roger atkins  
> War rages on- Alex Clare  
> Not falling apart - maroon 5
> 
> Have a nice weekend
> 
> SB  
> X


	28. No soldiers paid to kick against His powers

The next month and a half seemed to be a long succession of blows to Delia.

The first, of course, had been the dumping.

The second, the pain of losing Billy. He'd been sent home in a lead coffin she'd been told by Chummy who'd faxed the orders back home.

The third, was the awful requirement to lie about her depression.

Chummy, Barbara and Trixie all visited daily until Delia was well enough to be placed on light duties. At first she'd spent a week sitting at a desk with Chummy in the secretarial block. A dull and mind numbing experience she would prefer to forget even if it had been fun at first to throw paper aeroplanes with notes onto Chummys desk.

Her face had calmed down relatively quickly. The eye socket break leaving only a faint bump that was hidden in the curve of her eyebrow. Her nose would forever be slightly crooked and aside from a rash caused by the glue on the tape to her ribs she was now healed in body.

In mind though...

Oh, and on top of everything, it appeared that they were losing the war.

Rather badly if some of the rumours were to be believed.

The camp seemed to be filling more and more until every nook and cranny was full of battered, dark faced squaddies as outpost after outpost was overwhelmed by Russian troops. The hospital was half vanquished daily with the toll of so many lost fire fights only to spend frantic hours restocking dwindling supplies and caring for whoever was left once a lull in choas occured. Death walked beside them all like an old friend, reaching out to snatch at life like a cruel theif.

The staff were overworked, exhausted and terribly necessary in the vacuum of doubt these situations caused and Delia, at least, was glad of the distractions it provided. Collapsing into bed after a 16 hour day only to sleep for as long as possible before waking and doing the same thing all over again made it easier to keep going. Caused her rather broken hearted to, not fix, but be swept away for a more convenient time.

It was only in rare pauses Delia allowed herself to ruminate on her love life issues and even then she avoided it as much as possible because; Jesus, it hurt bad.

It hurt to be shut out. It hurt to be ignored. It hurt to sleep two cots away from the source of her pain and not be able to talk to her. Far too many nights Delia had woken up because she was reaching for something only to find empty air. By the dark circles under Patsys eyes it didn't appear to be one sided either. 

Which helped... a little.

And then there was the fact that Patsy wouldn't stop touching her; her knee, her shoulder, her arm, her back. Every. Single. Day. Why? Was she trying to taunt her? Every finger felt like a brand and Delia fell further into confusion and bubbling resentment.

She wanted to shake Patsy, wanted to rail and shout at her, wanted to ask why? Why? Why was she doing this to them? What the hell had happened? What had she done in the anonymous hours unconscious that had offended the red head enough to end it when it was getting so bloody good.

She wanted to demand answers from her stoic lover. She wanted to accuse her; you made love to me for months! You told me you loved me, you owned me, for what? How dare you! How dare you lie to me? How dare you pretend you don't love me. It wasn't a lie. You can't lie like that to someone and walk away. You don't get to put me in a box! Talk to me, just tell me whats made you do this? How can you deny me? How dare you deny me!

In working capacity Patsy was quiet and subdued; hovering at times awkwardly and even Sergeant Urusula had been noted asking her rather kindly if she ever wanted to talk to someone about the things she'd seen the army had People for that.

Trixie in a surprising twist of her very own was verging on cold to her best friend and the looks she passed Delias way suggested that she knew as much as Delia did about the rather unexpected u-turn and was just as angry with Patsy for her cowardice. 

The others seemed to have noted the strain however much Delia tried to hide it but as Patsy and Delia seemed to universally blow hot and cold they appeared to choose to ignore it. Chummy was overly jolly during meals; trying to push the two of them to engage in conversation but Patsy remained tight lipped and miserable. Delia wanted to slap her for her behaviour.

Delia was right there! Patsy didn't need to be miserable, she just needed to communicate... But Delia should never have allowed herself to forget that Patsy didn't do that sort of thing.

It was April. Debrecen was warmer than the outpost had been although the others, the ones not lucky enough to freeze in minus 15 snow driftd were still grumbling about the abominable weather.

Todays only ray of light was the burgeoning relationship that appeared to be growing faintly between Shelagh and Dr Turner. A subject that had been following them all at lull points in the shift.

There'd been twenty deaths so far and it wasn't yet much past half nine. Their shift would be over soon, beds were waiting, food was cooking and the nurses were ignoring their exhaustion while they unpacked an unexpected shipment of supplies. 

The small stockroom floor was a maze of haphazardly propped boxes and Patsy, Delia, Trixie, Barbara and the rather harrassed looking Shelagh were all busy setting things into good order before end of shift.

Progress was being somewhat hampered by Trixies inability to leave the subject of the brewing romance alone.

"Come on Shelagh, just take him in hand already. Men do appreciate the straight forward approach to romance; either a lady is interested or she is not. You simply must give him a definitive hint."

"A definive hint Trixie, I rather think that's an oxymoron in itself. Besides, I'm sure Shelagh knows full well how to handle men. How did you start things with previous boyfriends Shelagh?" Asked Barbara cheerfully.

There was a long pause as Shelagh took out smaller boxes of bandages from a larger one and laid them in neat stacks one upon another beside her. Delia and Patsy exchanged embarrassed looks in the silence before Patsy returned to opening boxes as she seemed to remember that they weren't doing that sort of thing anymore. Delia clenched her jaw and turned back to wiping the metal shelf she was about to fill.

"Sweetie? You have had boyfriends before haven't you?"Trixie asked tremulously. After another awkward pause from Shelagh Patsy seemed to take pity and attempted diversionary tactics.

"Trix, perhaps we should return to unpacking, I've got seventy eight bottles of bleach that will not carry themselves to the stock room here." Trixie, undeterred, merely waved a flippant hand.

"Hush Patsy, no one else shares your disturbing affinity with the wretched stuff. God knows how many bottles of rubies finest nail polish I've gone through after scrubbing my fingers to the bone. And in any case; I'm sure Shelagh doesn't mind a bit of girl chat." Shelagh sighed, removing her glasses and polishing the lenses on her breast pocket before replacing them.

"Well, as it happens, I haven't had any boyfriends so I'm not sure how much of a spokesman I can be for experience when it comes to them and relationships." Trixie stared. Patsy stared. Barbara actually managed a gawp. Even Delia put down her Jay cloth long enough to blink at the scot who sniffed and shuffled on her knees.

"Not had... Oh, but you have slept with a man a few times I'm sure." Said Trixie as though the concept of not doing so was akin to insanity. Delia was less shocked; she hadn't slept with a man either so could sympathise... sort of.

"Trixie!' Snapped Barbara forcefully as Shelagh went red and ducked her head. 'I think Patsys right, the bleach is calling you."

"Quite right, thanks Babs." Called Patsy eyeing up her best friend with a pointed bob of her ginger head.

"Now, I don't know why you two are worrying.' Said Trixie, her hair bouncing as she turned her head to trap Shelagh in her insistent gaze. 'Shelagh, there's nothing wrong with being a virgin...' she hesitated momentarily as though double checking her internal facts before continuing, 'after thirty. I often think of myself as a spiritual virgin." There was the sound of a half smothered cackle from Patsy as Barbara dropped her empty box in protest at the outright lie. Delia purposefully bustled at the racks, her face turned away to hide her disbelieving grin.

"I think the bleach has gone to your brain Trix." Chortled Patsy, her eyes crinkling in mirth.

"What I mean' Said Trixie with terrible coldness, glaring at Patsy who merely continued to smirk and cut open the next box with the Stanley knife. 'Is that as women of the world we must simply impart our wisdom to those yet to... take their maiden voyage."

"Lube helps." Offered Barbara helpfully as she kicked a box which crumpled flat.

"Only if they don't know what they're doing Shelagh." Said Patsy idly, her eyes falling on Delia again. Delia could feel a blush starting in her chest and fixed her eyes on the shiny bolts at the back of the racking thinking of cold showers and women who dumped her after surgery.

"I think I'll just wait until the times right." Said Shelagh a little desperately.

"If you do that it'll never happen though. Sometimes you need to make the right moments or they just slip through your fingers." Said Delia unexpectedly. The gaze on her face intensified momentarily before Patsy looked down at the knife in her hand glumly. Trixie too was watching Delia with a mixture of pity and sadness.

"I asked Tom out twice before he agreed and now we're getting married." Supplied Barbara chirpily and Trixie rounded on her gratefully.

"Lube? Really?" She asked mockingly as Barbara nodded seriously.

"Some of those vicarages can be very dry."

There was a communal pause as everyone considered this statement fully.

"Dry? What does the building have to do with it?" Asked Patsy eventually as reluctant spokeswoman for the team. Barbara blinked in surprise.

"Some of those buildings are very old, the doors can stick terribly in winter." 

There was another long pause. Delia wiped the shelf again for the look of the thing.

"Barbara...' Trixie began steadily, 'what on earth are you talking about?" Barbara looked at them as though they were all being purposefully obtuse.

"Lubricant; for the doors. Dr Turner told me he lives in a cottage. It would hardly be romantic if the doors stuck as he was carrying her to bed." Patsy and Delia laughed as Trixie rolled her eyes.

"Oh shut up Barbara, you'll confuse poor Shelagh even more than she already is." Snapped Trixie.

"Actually, I think Shelaghs fine without any more of our pearls of wisdom Trix." Said Patsy with a quelling look at her friend who huffed and folded her arms.

Bam

The earth beneath their feet began to vibrate. The boxes rattled and then tumbled from their stacks. The metal racking in front of Delia shook ominously and Delia lunged to pin the brackets where they were before it could tip onto them all.

Bottles of bleach, small boxes, medical tape and other detritus juddered about their feet as the world seemed to shake.

"Is it an earthquake?" Shouted Barbara panicking and Delia half shrugged pressing her body more tightly to the racking. The air was thick with rumbling.

"I have no idea." Called Trixie from her place on the floor where she'd fallen down.

They all stayed in their places, tension rolling between bodies like lightning in dead wood until- as quick as it had begun, it faded with only a few final warning thunderous jolts.

Slowly, Delia released her death grip on the clammy metal as the others groaned expletives around her.

"What the hell was that." Trixie said spitting out tufts of hair holding herself up on one elbow cupping her chin.

"No idea- Oh nurse Mount, what happened?" Delia whipped about looking to see what had happened but Patsy was hidden by Shelagh who seemed to be fluttering over her leg.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Delia asked harshly, abandoning the shelves to walk over. As she did so the need for questions became pointless. The Stanley knife was embedded in Patsys thigh near to the hilt. Delia wanted to rip the scot out of the way.

"It's okay, I don't think its hit anything major." Patsy assured the room at large, her eyes trained on Delias. Delia stared at her feeling butterflies set a dance in her belly.

"Well, we'll get you into the treatment room first. It'll need to come out, I just hope you've had your tetanus." Trixie was saying as she and Shelagh pulled Patsys arms around their necks and the three women limped out with Delia and Barbara following in their wake.

It was a flesh would assured Doctor Turner when he knelt to peruse the cut as they went past. Delia was terribly aware of Fenton hanging around nearby and tried to step into the field of vision, blocking Patsy from view. Useless attempt really since Fenton simply moved closer.

"You'll need it coming out and packing." Turner was telling Patsy who nodded tight lipped.

"I'll do it." Said Delia and Fenton at the same time. No one else spoke as Delia turned to face the blonde. They considered each other for a moment.

Delia shot the doctor a look that plainly wished her an unspeakable death should she take one more step towards Patsy. Fenton took an involuntary step backwards in the wake of the glare she'd received.

"On reflection... perhaps this is just a job for a nurse, I do have a large amount of patients to see after all." Fenton muttered and Delia nodded feeling as though if this was the animal kingdom she had just done the equivalent of weeing on Patsy but not caring all that much.

She stayed where she was until the blonde had scurried away before swivelling on one foot to stand, hand on hips, watching Patsy sag between her two carriers.

"Come on then, lets get it out." Delia said bracingly and Patsy blinked.

"Delia, you really don't need to-"

"I think I know what I need to do thanks Patience, now lets get in the room. Unless you want to show everyone your pins." Patsy stared at her for a second, gulped, and then limped into the directed treatment room with Shelagh and Trixie who deposited her on the bed and left grumbling about the boxes that would need to be sorted before they could leave.

Delia shut the door behind them.

Patsy fidgeted on the bed, her fingers rubbing the skin above the knife. There was a cupboard with necessary items off to one side and Delia walked over to it, not speaking, pulling out wadding, wipes, tweezers in little steralised packets and a bowl for the dirties.

"Deels... You don't-"

"We're not doing this right now, pull out the knife and take off your trousers." Said Delia angrily, slamming the cupboard door shut as she walked over to the bed, depositing her stuff onto a little table on wheels. Patsy fidgeted even more and Delia turned to eye the knife hilt.

"Sorry.' She said more gently, seeing the lines of pain between Patsys eyes. 'I didn't mean that... I'll take it out, you can shut your eyes if you're feeling squeamish." Patsy did not reply, just nodded her head curtly and looked up to the ceiling.

Delia stood for a moment before placing her body firmly between Patsys legs. She felt Patsy shudder as their bodies drew close but feigned indifference even as something seemed to pull in her pelvis.

Could have gone in from the side... Could have done a lot of things differently. Both of them.

The knife came away with a slithering noise like a fork in rare steak. Patsy hissed as it flicked out and Delia dropped it with a clatter onto the steel tray before pressing a compress to the hole in her trousers.

"We need to take these off." She offered clinically and Patsy half chuckled.

"Can't." Patsy breathed, her legs rubbing against Delias hips. Delia watched the leg shake and made a decision. Avoiding eye contact she reached for Patsys trousers and undid the button. She felt the thighs tighten against her sides and willed her hand not to shake. 

Nothing to see here people, just a nurse taking her ex's clothes off... Or whatever.

Not waiting for any confirmation from the red head Delia then grasped the waist band and began tugging the trousers off firmly as though it wasn't awkward. As though she had every right.

Patsy obliged by lifting her hips and Delia pulled the trousers inside out down her long legs with a quickness of a magician pulling off a table cloth leaving a vase of flowers and a pint still standing. Patsy watched her owlishly, her mouth tight shut.

"You're too good at that." She muttered to Delia who grimaced as she flapped out the trousers and folded them messily before dropping them beside Patsy.

"Not my first Rodeo." She parried back and Patsy smiled weakly. The wound looked pretty clean, the blade had been sharp and though deep it had been thin. The blood trickled thickly but not anything in the amount to suggest arterial tears. She'd been lucky it seemed.

There was a fresh scar on Patsys other thigh, not fully healed yet. The puckered pink of the flesh was a blemish against the pale skin. Delia wanted to trace it, to learn the new shape on the landscape that she would forever regard as hers.

Steeling herself Delia looked up from her scan to see Patsy watching her closely. Delia felt the pull there as they stared at each other, the tightening of their connected strings. Her fingers pressed at the compress while her thumb stroked the muscle below.

"How bad does it hurt?" Delia asked quietly and Patsy sighed.

"Not too bad." She whispered back and Delia rolled her eyes, reaching over to retrieve a little tub of clear gel.

"Don't be so butch, it doesn't suit you. I'm going to numb the skin so you don't feel it when I clean it out." Delia had been fully aware the movement had brought her chest closer to Patsys face and internally delighted in the expression Patsy turned on her.

"Has your beside manner always been like this? Because if it has, I think I've just worked out why you've always been such a popular girl." Delia said nothing just smiled and began cleaning out the wound. Patsy hissed in air through her nose as Delia worked and after one very thorough sweep placed both hands on Delias shoulders, holding herself upright.

Delia tried to ignore the way the hands tightened when she began to stuff the hole with tweezers. Looking up Patsys forehead was clammy, her leg very still under Delias ministrations. With a final flourish Delia finished packing and smoothed an adhesive strip over the opening, winding small slivers of tape on either side to secure it. Patsy closed her eyes as Delia ran a finger down each side to make sure it had adhered correctly, her head tilting on its axis like she was listening to something.

"Right Patience, this will require dressing changes once every 24 hours. After three days it can go down to every 48. I'm advising rest, lots of fluids, no aspirin or blood thinners for pain. When showering don't wipe just dab and I'm sure there'll be others around to reapply the dressing should you not be able to if it falls off." Delia tried to keep her voice professional, not at all certain why she was bothering to recite the advice as Patsy would already know it but wanting a distraction from the feel of Patsys legs clamped around her. Patsy bared her teeth.

"Are you going to play nurse after my shower as well then Delia?" Delias breath caught as she clocked the burst pupils watching her. Patsys lips were...

"If you want me to." She answered faintly. Patsy closed her eyes before leaning back, releasing Delias shoulders to rest behind her. Delia couldn't quite work out if she'd done it in a bid to stop Delia or herself from doing something else. Wanted distance again.

Rejection stung afresh and Delia pursed her lips as she looked down at the other thigh. Without thinking Delia reached to run a finger tip down the jagged line. The spongey scar tissue travelled from half way up the thigh to the knee. She'd have matching scars now.

"Healed well." Delia commented distantly.

"Trixie looked after me... I did it-" Patsy began but Delia interrupted feeling cold.

"I know how you did it." Trixie told me. She told me because you didn't. You saved my life. You cared. You care.

"Right... How's your ribs?" Patsy asked timidly and Delia sniffed considering if she wanted to answer. 

Not really Patsys business anymore. Patsy had made it clear she didn't want it to be her business anymore.

"They're alright, hurt when I went for a run the last few times but it'll get better."

Delia should step back, should just let go, should put away the medical equipment and walk out of the room. 

Instead Delia froze as Patsy reached out and traced the new shape of Delias nose lightly. Her face wistful.

"They did a good job on this. Does it hurt much?" Delia pulled away, angry at herself for the faint stirring in her chest at the soft words.

"There's a crooked bit near the top. Just makes me look more Welsh I think, I'll tell my little cousins I did it playing rugby.' Patsys smile didn't quite reach her eyes as they both recalled clearly how it had really occured. Patsy reached to tap Delias temple, face growing more stony. 

'I think it makes me look ugly.' Delia whispered balefully unable to stop herself. Seemed a childish feeling to have when she'd first got a good look in the mirror after it had all happened; Billy dead, Patsy pulling a disappearing act and yet she'd cried again as she took in the change to her face.

Patsy sniffed humourlessly and looked into Delias eyes. Her hand falling to her shoulder and smoothing the fabric harshly.

"You're wrong... I think it suits you more, makes you more beautiful." Delia felt her throat tighten at the sincerity in Patsys voice. It wasn't fair.

"Suits me because I'm broken?" Patsy bit her lip, her finger rising again to the line of Delias nose. 

"You're not broken Delia. You're one of the bravest women I know." She breathed out the words like it her hurt too. Delia hoped it did. Hoped she alone wasn't the only one split in half and gutted over this pointlessly created shared pain.

"But I feel broken.' Delia sighed tightly, closing her eyes for a minute in a bid to take in the sensation of Patsy this close again and then- 

'Why did you do it?" The question was said so quietly Patsy could have pretended not to hear it if she had wanted to. Delia heard her sigh and felt as the fingers left her face to rest on the mattress. Delia took a deep breath before opening her eyes again. Patsys eyes were deep pools, the answers were there, but buried far down. Delia sagged and drew herself backwards until their legs didn't touch anymore.

"I miss you.' Delia said eventually, watching Patsy gulp, the defined jaw grow rigid. 'And I know you miss me too... so what happens if I say I don't care? What happens if I don't leave right now? What happens if I refuse to let you go until you admit it, what then Pats?" Patsy was watching her, mouth half open as Delia stepped forward again as a reckless streak coiled through her.

Delia squeezed the soft skin of Patsys knee and travelled upwards, her open hands gliding against warm inner thighs, listening to Patsy breathe hard until, abruptly, their passage was stopped. Held tightly beneath Patsys longer fingers as Patsy leaned down so they were eye to eye.

"You already know what will happen." She said through gritted teeth and Delia felt her pulse quicken.

"And what if thats what I want?" She asked bitterly and Patsy shook her head, a muscle in her cheek twitching.

"It isn't though. You want more than that." Delia took in a deep breath, letting her nails dig in slightly. Watched Patsys eyes darken even as she shook off the feeling she was pushing too hard. Still; it was only revenge maybe for all of those not so innocent touches Patsy had had out of her in the last few weeks.

"So do you though.' Delia challenged, knowing she was right. Patsys eyes were scrambling about; Delias face, her throat, her chest. The hands that had been restraining were just curled now and Delia doubted either of them had much control left. 'It wasn't a lie, was it?" Answer me! Delia felt Patsy tense, the bottom lip shivered as Patsys eyes half closed.

"Thats not- Delia, it's a bad idea." Delia bristled, pushing her face forward to buss at Patsys lips. A surge of hope crested as she felt Patsys mouth open. 

"You made love to me... that wasn't a lie Pats. I don't know what happened... I want to know. It doesn't have to be this way." Patsy was still breathing heavily, their foreheads pushed together and shakily, as though working against their owners permission, hands crept up to clutch at the back of Delias shirt. Holding her tightly, pulling her closer. Delia squeezed her eyes shut. 

Don't do this to us. Don't do this to me.

But the hands were already letting go again... falling, open palms sliding away. Patsys eyes were growing distant, the blue stained with grey.

"You should go Deels." Patsy whispered bleakly, sounding as though she'd run a long way. She was really; running away from this, them. Delia felt herself shattering all over again.

"You're really going to let me go?' She said, her voice a dead thing. Patsy paled but gave no answer and Delia felt a burning hot pain behind her eyes. 'What happens now then? I go off; we don't talk. What happens if I meet someone else Pats? What would you honestly say if you saw me with some other woman?" 

For a moment Patsys eyes burned, fury washing away the grey as Delias words sank in. Delia watched it, her chin raised, willing Patsy to galvanise.

"I'll hate her, I'll be jealous and I'll hope she understands how lucky she is Delia. That's what I'll do." Delia felt like something was crushing her windpipe and actually walked away to lean against the wall, unsure how she was still standing up right now.

"I don't want someone else though... I just want you Patsy." Delia would have cried if she had the energy for tears. Patsy merely gripped the mattress edge more tightly.

"I'm not- You can do better Delia." Delia let out a rattling breath, her face felt cold as she gasped out a mocking laugh.

"I know that. Believe me I do... But I want you.' She felt her chest constrict as Patsy bit her lip, her face set stubbornly.

"You should go Delia. You should forget about me." Delia wanted to laugh, wanted to fall down and beat at the floor hysterically. Forget about Patsy? Because that worked so well for the last six years. 

"Are you going to forget me?" Delia stared at Patsy mulishly, watching the internal struggle play out on the red heads face. 

"No... I don't think I'll ever do that." Patsy said harshly and Delia sucked her teeth.

"When you realise how much of an arse you're being Patience Mount... you are going to need to pull out something huge to make up for this... like tickets to a sweetie factory or something." Patsy was staring at her wide eyed as Delia pushed away from the wall and turned to the door her hand reaching for the handle half blind.

"Delia?" Delia froze and looked over her shoulder to see Patsy had finally let go of the mattress her face a cacophony of emotions.

"It's always been you you know. After you left there was never anyone else... I thought you should know." Delias fingers tightened on the door handle.

"Well; I am one of a kind Patsy. About time you worked that out." Patsy smiled sadly and nodded.

"To me you always have been."

Something loud rattled the flimsy door and continued to crash down the corridor. A familiar female voice accompanied the bangs, it was heightened to a shrill call in panic, the rather well conditioned accent stretching out syllables into a neigh of distress.

"Ladies! Lay-dees! Turn it on! Turn it on- oh botheration." There was another loud bang as Chummy seemed to collide with a solid object. The following noises of cascading smaller objects rattled against the linoleum. Delia started, disconnecting from the moment to follow the sound of destruction and muffled apologies, Patsy cursing, reached for her trousers to follow.

Chummy was back on her feet, leaning against a doorway, fingertips white as Barbara and Trixie knelt on the floor trying to gather the large amount of medical equipment that had been, alas, piled neatly on an overturned meds trolley a few paces away. Its wheel still turned rather pathetically in the air.

"Chummy!' Delia chastened, still a little emotional and snappish. Chummy hung her head shamefully. 

"So sorry ladies, I simply had to get here a.s.a.p. The radio! Tell me you have a radio, we need to listen to it. It's the utmost urgency type of situation I'm afraid. Trixie, I promise to bally well clean anything you care to ask me to once the moment has passed but I must insist we all listen. Come on!" Chummy was practically white with excitement, her knees shaking even as she continued to clutch at the door frame, her glasses flashing in the fluorescent lights.

"Gosh Chummy, what on earth could have got you this excited? Has Take That reformed with Robbie?" Asked Barbara pulling Trixie back up, staring at Chummy in wry amusement. Delia felt Patsys hand snake, unseen by the others, to rub a greedy thumb at the spot where her spine met hips. Involuntarily she felt her pelvis shift forward before blushing and taking a forceful half step towards the others. Patsys arm fell back to her side with a muted slap.

"The PM's about to make an announcement; I shan't spoil it, not supposed to know, saw a memo through a window in the office but my goodness we need to move ladies! Now!"

Fenton, Shelagh and Turner were already gathered around the radio when they all strode in, heads bent together over the tiny appliance. Fenton was turning the dial carefully, everyones face serious as the wailing static picked up a dutch rock station, strands of opera, a folky number in an African sounding accent.

Then, quite abruptly, all other noise faded as the unmistakable voice of the prime minister whipped through the speakers.

"Shh" Said Barbara hastily although there was little need. No one was going to interrupt now.

"-Dear Countrymen. It is with a mixture of joy and sadness that I must inform you all that as of 10:00am this morning the world must lay down its arms in light of the recent events in Moscow.

I have spoken with our Chinese allies who have confirmed the rumour that at eight hundred hours this morning an atomic bomb of immense power was dropped onto Russias capital city Moscow. The death toll appears to be in the millions and the remaining political leaders have since been in contact to offer their countries unconditional surrender.

As I speak to you all now, the great swathes of soldiers on all sides will be pulling back from their posts set against one another. The world will unite in grief for the great toll this war has wrecked upon us all.

It is times such as these that we all must reflect upon the great cost of war and must reaffirm international bonds and friendships to safeguard our future. I must-" 

But what exactly else the prime minister felt they all must was lost behind the shouts and calls and hoots of many voices all around Delia.

Arms reached out to clasp and hold. Barbara almost fell to her knees dragging half a bed with her from where she'd been nervously gripping a sheet. Trixie was pulling Patsys hand. Shelagh had gone bright red as Dr Turner grasped her arms and they made a lot of ernest 'eye contact' which in any other pair would be the equivalent of an all nighter marathon shagathon followed by post coital victory fags. 

Chummy waded through the hugging, wailing crowd to enfold Delia into a bone crushing hug. Over her shoulder Delias eyes met Patsys momentarily and knew, knew in that brief collection of seconds that it was all over.

The war was done... It was over; but them? Delia had no idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright my petite croque en bouches?
> 
> I apologise once more for the long wait, was all set to crack on once nephew went home but alas, my wisdom teeth decided to mess about. 
> 
> I am now considerably less wise.
> 
> Now, I actually wrote some of this out a while back and lost it when phone died so being the child I am I tapped out the next two chapters before coming back to it. So, not very long waits now peeps for updates.
> 
> Hope you enjoy and not to put too fine a point on it but comments are the wind beneath my rather twisted wings...
> 
> SB x
> 
>  
> 
> PS: oh, and can I just say a huge gushy thankyou to imagine_the_two who drew a comic strip thing about this. I'm ridiculously jazzed about the fact you did and the link for its in chapter fours comments section if any one wanted to see it! 
> 
> Lady...you are amazing!


	29. We laughed- knowing better men would come

Pembrokeshire was still beautiful. 

It was a soft place that was always welcoming, as though it always kept a small secret gap in its terrain just for her. Home was a green land and an open sea. Home was Wales and to Delias tired eyes it had never been more safe, never more fantastic in its reliability.

The war was over.

They proclaimed it on every television screen, bill board, newspaper, radio station, shop front and media outlet.

The war was over.

It had been over for a few weeks and although Delia hadn't been home to see the initial revelry, the street parties, the toasts to their good health, the kisses and tears, the memory of it all was still visible on the smiling faces of everyone. Relief, shock, happiness.

The soldiers had stayed one week longer in Debrecen to shut up shop, upload supplies and the like. The nervous anticipation of going home had only been hampered by the almost ridiculous concept that was the week long repatriation course they were told to prepare themselves for on arrival.

The government had asked them to fight for their Queen and country and now that Queen and country no longer required several million troops they were all sent home with a copper pot medal, a letter of thanks reprinted so much the words were blurry, an official pin to wear at their leisure and a rather pathetic wage packet for time served.

It had been as close to insanity as Delia had ever known once they'd got back to Britain. The group had immediately been split haphazardly into designated geographical zones. Delia had been pushed towards a Welsh section so quickly she'd hardly been able to clasp Chummys hand as they stepped into the airport, let alone muster up the right words to say to Patsy who'd been locked in a heated argument with a stocky, red faced sergeant trying to send her down south near her father.

The bus ride had been raucous with so much celebratory whiskey, vodka, beer, cider and anything else people had smuggled on their person inhaled, snorted and swallowed that by the time she'd reached Pembrokeshire she'd half fallen out into the bus station. The moment might have been hilarious had she not been dragged by the scruff of the neck into a rib cracking embrace from her mother that had literally taken the knees from beneath her. After that she'd simply allowed herself to be swept up in the ecstasy of being home where she belonged.

That was two weeks ago.

And now the world was spinning onwards. Life was being pushed forcefully through carefully scripted government dogma back to 'the norm'.

Delia had managed one week back home with her parents before extricating herself back to her flat with the explanation that she needed to feel normal again. Her mother had agreed eventually although Delia had been back to her parents house every evening so far after dire phone calls and tears for family dinners and had left nearly over laden with food packages.

Her mam said she looked thin. It was probably true.

Delia loved her family, loved the fact that she could find someone related to the Busbys in nearly any Street. Loved that they all loved her enough to smother her in affection but after two weeks she was losing her ability to see this clearly.

She had grown used to silence, to order, to not needing to explain or say everything out loud.

A part of her, probably a part closely related to the part that kept checking her phone for messages from Patsy that never materialised, missed the danger, the simplicity of just surviving day to day on a strict routine. 

Pembrokeshire and all it represented was home, would always be home but Britain, the country, the people, the concept... that all felt like a foreign land.

For one thing, Britain was surprisingly bright; colours were everywhere, jarring and difficult to take in. Even her flat, her tiny island all of her own making, the flat that she'd decorated to be always happy felt vaguely difficult to stomach. The food tasted rich after months of ration packs and piss water tea. The first meal she'd eaten, roast dinner with all the trimmings, had resulted in violent vomiting for half an hour and stomach cramps all night that made her sweat and shiver.

Her mother had said it was just excitement to be home.

Delia had been forced to hide the next few bouts of nausea until it gradually faded into a general feeling of discomfort she could feign didn't affect her anymore until she fell into bed. Away from her mothers all seeing eye.

She felt exhausted, bone weary. She didn't seem to sleep properly any more; her body always prepared to wake for emergencies, her ears seeming to pick up tiny sounds and jolt her to full alert mode. Strange to think comfort was harder to learn than discomfort.

The questions from the kids were hardest to take. She'd managed fairly well on night three, a Friday, until her four year old cousin had asked excitedly how many Russians she'd butchered.

Delia had felt a dash of cold creep down her neck, her legs began to shake as she saw afresh in her minds eye the pile of bodies in the clearing, the red mist, Billy-

She'd stammered and stalled, ashamed at her inability to articulate herself effectively, until the boys mother had come in and rescued her.

She had staunchly evaded any more kiddie type gatherings ever since just in case. It wasn't their fault she knew, they would only parrot what they'd heard from their parents.

The parents.

Her mam seemed resolved never to ask details about 'that abominable war', her father seemed always close to saying something but had thus far restrained himself. The others though were something else. Delia knew her cousin Bertie would ask eventually, he practically drooled when she entered a room. Perhaps he thought war was glorious. Perhaps he was honestly that stupid.

The others watched her closely. Too closely until she felt marked somehow. 

She'd escaped everything today to come to the sea side. Sitting on the edge of the pier spreading out her toes in the thick silt of the sand on her own. Thinking about nothing but sea and life.

There was some kind of day trip going on further along the beach. A load of kids in matching brown uniforms picking idly at the rock pools and driftwood. There was a youngish teacher trying to herd the little bodies into some kind of order. 

The teacher was pretty from afar, short hair and sort of nicely dishevelled as she hollered instructions that the wind stole away as soon as she released them. Delia stared at her hard, hidden by the safety of mirrored sunglasses. Wishing to feel even a passing interest in the anonymous woman but couldn't manage it.

Too short, too dark. 

Delia rubbed her fingers into the sandy concrete she was sitting on. She'd bet good money that that woman would be well adjusted, probably would want to date, do romance and then- what? What would Delia do in that situation? Delia sighed and turned her eyes onto the sea.

It was calm and patient. 

"Well, fancy meeting you here." Delia started, looking about to squint at a familiar man wandering over to her; something square balanced in his arms. She said nothing as she recognised him, just shifted over to make room as her dad deposited a cardboard box onto the floor and bent to sit beside her.

The Busby duo sat quietly, watching the sea. They had both liked silence. Delia didn't flinch as she felt her fathers calloused hands reach to hold hers for a second.

"You used to nag me to come here when you were a little girl. Every weekend you'd beg me saying 'come on dad, it might have changed.' Ryhs chuckled at the memory and Delia smiled pulling off the glasses absentmindedly.

"You were always softer than mam. Plus you bought the big ice creams even though they were 40p more." Delia said softly as she rested her head on her dads shoulder. They were the same height now which was strange. The shoulders once so broad and strong she would have sworn they could lift the world seemed smaller to her. They hadn't really done this sort of thing much in recent years although when she'd got back to wales the first time they'd had a few chats on the beach away from her mams all powerful ears. Rhys pulled an arm over his daughters shoulder.

He smelled of compost, garden sheds and wax from his jacket. Smelled of home.

"Your mam reckons you're having girl trouble. She wanted me to get it out of you." Delia snorted and looked at her dad who rolled his eyes.

"She already knows what's happened." Sort of. Her mam had blamed the slight melancholic atmosphere Delia hadn't hidden well enough on Patsy. Delia hadn't given any more information although she suspected her mam would get the info somehow; she had a feeling Chummy might be getting a phone call. Delia wished her mam good luck.

Eileen Busby would hang up long before Chummy.

Her dad was watching the school kids clamber up big rocks. One of them had fallen over and was trying for sympathy from the teacher. The teacher seemed to be holding her own and Delia wondered where her helpers were. Didn't they have rules and stuff for trips? Maybe there weren't all that many helpers left anymore.

"Did I ever tell you... how me and your mam got together?" Delia raised her eyebrows at the bizarre question and peered at her dad again.

"Only a few million times Dad. You pursued mam for a year and eventually won her round." Every Christmas her mam cracked open the photo album like a heroine addict looking for a fix. Unstoppable pictures of Delia, half naked in the garden at two, would eventually follow. Rhys was laughing again and squeezed Delias shoulders more firmly.

"Yeah, but I'm talking about the unedited version. The story your mam doesn't tell." Delia blinked in the weak grey light and frowned as her dad winked conspiratorially and stretched out his legs so his feet made little valleys in the sand.

"The real thing you need to know my girl is that your old dad was a bit of play boy in his youth. Not to brag but I was a total babe magnet.' Rhys laughed at his daughters disgusted expression. 'We were young too Cariad. Anyway, first time I ever saw your mam she was sitting with a bunch of her mates. I was out with the Rugby lot and she was playing darts... Do you know, well, I don't mind telling you the first sight, that very first one- I knew she was it. She was the prettiest girl I'd ever seen and I had to talk to her. It was fate.

Got pissed enough to be brave and walked up to her all bravado and beer and I said to her, I said listen woman, we don't know each other yet but you're going to be my wife someday." Delia stared at the sea amused. She knew this bit off by heart.

"Bet that went down well." Rhys grinned shaking his head ruefully.

"Went bad to worse. She wouldn't have me near her. I followed her about for a year all lovesick and pleading. Bought her chocolates and she ate them without taking my notes, got tickets to the flicks and she went with her mates, threw stones at her window and she set your nans dogs on me. She was wary see, she'd heard about my reputation and didn't want to know me... So, one day, after I'd waited all night for her to ring the pay phone down my street and she didn't; something broke. I gave up." Delia blinked at the new angle to the familiar story. Her mam had never mentioned this part.

"You left my mam?" She asked the question mildly enough but Rhys raised his hands in supplication immediately.

"I went on one date. One! A girl from the club. She was a nice lass, not very bright mind you but your mam wasn't biting and I was getting disheartened." Delia chewed her tongue slowly.

"But you got together, you are together." Rhys grinned and pulled a roll up from his pocket slyly only shrugging a little embarrassed at Delias raised eyebrow.

"Well... the date was going alright; she was keen. I'm standing at the bar trying to catch the barmans eye and I hear this God almighty crash. Your mam bursting through the door all fire and wrath and I tell you Cariad I have never since seen her so terrifying. Nearly knocked me out with a beer bottle when I got to her, told me I was the biggest idiot she'd ever had the misfortune to set her eyes on, stole my bike and rode away after telling this girl I had VD at the top of her lungs." Delia was laughing in ernest now as her father idly lit his cigarette.

"How did you make up?" She asked feeling her chest shake as Rhys sighed happily, a far away glint in his eye.

"Ahh, your mam could never ride a bike properly and she'd had a few. I found her on the walk back into town. She'd come off in the rain and got stuck in a storm drain. I got her out and walked her home. We got married six months later." 

Delia snorted as she put her head back on her dads shoulder.

"I don't think we should ever let mam know you told me that story." Rhys hummed sucking on his fag thoughtfully.

"No, perhaps not. I don't want to lose another bike."

They both laughed watching the sea. It was nice to feel like this. Just happy; it felt like years since she'd felt this way. She wondered if happiness felt this fleeting to everyone. 

"Everyones looking at me dad." Delia admitted sadly to the beach. Rhys squeezed her hand and licked his lips.

"They are Cariad. They don't mean to make you uncomfortable, you've been somewhere they couldn't follow if they tried. It's not that they're trying to make you sad, they love you. We all love you." Delia felt a lump in her throat and sniffed.

"Patsy dumped me... I think she's the one dad. I don't know what to do." Rhys did not immediately speak, he finished his cigarette first before grinding it under his feet and covering the butt over with sand.

"You know Delia, in my experience, women all think in sqiggly lines. They're just as straightforward as blokes underneath it all but they like to scramble stuff up into lots of different feelings and thoughts. If she's the one Cariad then it'll sort itself out eventually." Delia considered this for a moment, thinking it through before turning to sit facing her dad.

"Squiggly lines?" 

Rhys nodded wisely.

"The sqiggliest, messiest, wonkyest lines you can think of." He said seriously and Delia sagged.

"Dad... you know I'm a woman right?" Delias father got to his feet brushing sand off his legs.

"Yes Cariad but you're also a Busby and you're my little girl. You're too stubborn to get tangled." Delia followed him feeling certain her dad had her confused with someone else.

They walked together, their feet sliding on sand covered steps. At the cars Delia nodded to the box in her dads arms.

"Is that another dust collector by any chance?" Her mam had started sending her home with old trinkets. She said it was to ground her back down and Delia hadn't had the heart to tell her she didn't want them. Rhys nodded handing the heavy box to Delia.

"Your aunties vase. The green one with the dragons pattern. I put extra padding in so it should last the journey home. Delia hefted the box into the car boot and hugged her dad goodbye. Waited at the car door until he'd gone from sight.

Looking at her feet Delia sighed. She'd drop the box at the flat before getting ready. She wasn't staying home tonight, her dad knew that. Probably why her mam had sent him to give a pep talk.

Tonight she had a hot date with a soldier she couldn't miss.

She'd even bought a dress.

\---

Little Temsby parish church was a tiny thing with blue and red stained glass windows and teaked wood stretching along its high pointed ceiling, nestled beside roaring sea cliffs. Its graveyard was full of worn stones, weather damaged and faded tokens from grieving relatives scattered here and there, dying flowers and names of human lives already blurring from living memory. 

There was a pretty, ornate stone plaque bolted onto the outside wall beside the door. The names and attached dates of soldiers deaths from the parish began almost a hundred years ago. The neat filings were fading with sea damage so that the top most names were almost worn away into obscurity. Below the older ones were new names Delia noted; carved neatly and with little fuss. The very final name read simply; William J Basset. 

He was 26 years old.

Had a daughter too Delia saw as she scanned her hastily taken order of service given by a grave faced usher at the door. Evie Jane. Funny that. Billy had never mentioned he had a child, never mentioned he was an army brat either. His father had died in Northern Ireland apparently. 

Delias eyes were drawn like the eyes of a commuter passing a car crash to Billys brother. He still wore his uniform, the shoulders ironed into crisp peaks stood out against the dark wood of the pews. From the back he looked so much like his brother it made Delias chest ache.

Beside him in the front row Delia could see a small womans head as it bobbed to dab at streaming eyes. Billys mother she supposed from the grey in the brown hair. Same brown as Billys. Beside her two women sat either side of a little girl. The daughter Delia had never heard of. Evie Jane. She, at least, appeared cheerful amidst the mourning crowd. Probably not school age yet Delia guessed from the garbled chirruping of the girls voice as she giggled away. Too young to understand what the occasion was or what it meant. 

Her sentries were odd; the little blonde next to Billys mother was busy wrapping a consoling arm around her shoulders as she cried. The taller brunette however sat rigid at the end of the aisle and Delia watched as she turned to look about her furtively eying up the other attendees almost nervously. Perhaps she was right to be so concerned.

The church was full all the way to the door at the back with military personnel. Not everyone wore their uniform, Delia hadn't. Delia spotted Dyer near the front and Paxo close by a pair of scruffy men with fresh looking beards and yet Delia could sense by the stiff stance and dark eyes nearly everyone seemed to have served. Everyone had seen something.

It was going to be a messy generation gap.

Delia could spot most of the squad from the outpost dotted about the church; Juno, connolly, Lewis. Everyone had turned up. Which meant, of course...

The hairs on Delias neck stood on end half way through the service as a door closed softly and feet padded between the lines of people unable to get a seat. Delia didn't turn her head or break eye contact with the large pot resting on the horrible table at the front.

Didn't need to.

So She had come then. Delia had wondered if she would. It wasn't as though Billy and Patsy had ever been friends after all.

The family had cremated Billy immediately after his body had been returned to them in keeping with his wishes. However the funeral had been left on hold. As his mother had put it in the email cascaded to the squad a week after their repatriation; "the family wished to wait until all of Billys comrades were safe on home soil before putting him to rest. Billy would not have been at peace until he knew completely that the world was too."

So here they sat; friends, family, acquaintances, brothers and sisters at arms all listening to an insubstantial looking priest read from a bible about resurrections and hope.

They'd put a photograph beside Billys urn on a table draped in the union jack. He looked about twenty in it, the fashion was entirely 2000's. God, he looked like a chav; blue cap, sovereign rings on the fingers and broad grin poking under very short hair with a fringe gelled up in sharp points. The same blonde now sitting next to his kid was under his arm looking embarrassed but amused with longer hair and eyes rimmed with blue mascara. He couldn't be more than 19 in that picture.

He was 26 and dead now.

The priest eventually gave way to Dyer who marched before the podium. The look she gave the watching crowd was distant and Delia listened woodenly as Dyer spoke about his service to the country, his contribution towards keeping national borders safe, his bravery, his sense of fun in the face of adversity. As she went on Dyer had to speak louder and louder to be heard over the sobs of Billys mother.

Delia couldn't take the pretty speech in, her eyes fixed on the simple pottery urn on the table again. Billy had lines shaved in his eyebrows in his picture. Delia would never have the opportunity to fully mock him for them. His daughter burbled on happily despite the shushing of her brunette mother. She must be the podiatrist Billy had told her about the morning she'd waited for Patsy in the sentry tower.

Seemed years ago rather than months.

After the service Billys brother, who had thus far remained in his seat, got to his feet and clapped his hands for silence before informing them all that Billys ashes would be scattered half an hour hence over the cliff top nearby. They were all welcome to see him off.

Delia watched as the church emptied slowly, row by row, in dark trickles. Outside the stone building the groups split apart, some to the car park and some to the winding road leading down to the cliffs.

Delia nodded at those she knew but didn't stop to talk choosing instead to follow behind a large group of men all of which puffed noiselessly on roll ups. No one spoke much. In the lifeless half light they looked like a gaggles of crows crowding round for a feast.

Far ahead Delia saw Billys family leading the procession. Charlie carried Billys urn in his arms tightly like a final embrace.

The cliff edge was fenced with flimsy looking wooden stakes tacked together when they eventually reached it. The group of men in front, apparently at some unseen order or sign, converged upon it, pulling up a small section to reveal a snapshot of the snarling sea below. Delia joined the growing throng creating a semi circle around the gap, Charlie and his mother standing before them, Billy front and centre.

The little girl remained in her mothers arms at the edge of the gathering. Perhaps the family had decided she was too young for this. Someone tugged at Delias hand and she realised her neighbour was passing a long chain of shot glasses. She took one and gave it to the man on her right.

After ten more minutes Charlie placed Billys urn to the floor gently and reached to pull out something from an inner pocket of his coat. There was laughter from the crowd as Delia recognised the object as a rusting mouth organ. Clearly, an old joke, well known. Delia didn't understand but listened as Charlie played a few riffs before placing the instrument in front of his brother.

Bags rustled and Delia was handed a bottle of whiskey. Without needing to be told Delia filled her shot and passed along the bottle. 

Billys mother had his eyes Delia noticed. She alone remained stoic, seeming to take in every face as she looked about her. Delia felt a wave of embarrassment rush over her as she felt the eyes take in her features and wondered if Billys mother hated them all a little bit for the fact they had survived and her son had not. Her mam certainly would.

The bottle had completed its circuit quickly and Charlie filled his own glass to toast simply.

"Billy."

"Billy!" They all repeated. Delia felt the name stick in her throat as she downed the burning drink. Her chest warmed even as the same group of men from before walked to pick up the urn and carry it to the opening in the fence. Billys mother began to cry again as the urn was thrown far out into the raging sea.

What a message that would be to find.

Delia sincerely doubted any of this was legal and wondered if the police would turn up when they all made their way back up the track to the car park. Billys final joke on them all.

Time moved on. Always.

Now, it was darker. The family had converged a little way off and were waiting as people reached to give their condolences. The little girl was asleep in her brunette mothers arms by the trees, head tucked safely under a protective chin.

Delia had wanted to say more when she'd spoken to them all but, as often happens in such situations, she found the only words she could manage were that Billy had been a good man and that she was sorry. She felt a shiver of frustration at her weak attempts. Billy had been a good man and he shouldn't have died. No one should have had to die.

Footsteps muffled by scrub grass came nearer as someone came to stand beside her. A warm hand brushed the back of her own. Delia didn't need to look up to know who it was. 

"It was a good ceremony. Wasn't expecting the ending though. Very dramatic. Very Billy." Delia kicked at loose pebbles so that they tumbled across the ground. There was a big cargo ship far off, the lights from its hull lit up the strip on the edge of the world.

"He had it all planned out it seems." Delia said to her knees. She was wearing boots, nice boots, ankle things and a black dress because Billy would have appreciated it. She hadn't really thought about the terrain. Patsy wore trousers despite the summer heat. Clever.

"How are you?" Patsy asked almost timidly. Delia sighed, thinking a thousand honest reponses to the rather loaded question. Tired. Sad. Lonely without you. A little bit more broken about the fact it didn't work out again. She decided not to answer in the end, deferring with a more pertinent question of her own.

"Why are you here Pats?" Finally looking up Delia felt the odd tugging sensation in her naval as Patsys face flashed up in front of her eyes. Patsy blinked and pulled invisible lint from her coat.

"Keeping a promise... Billy asked me to tell his family a few things." Delia frowned, non plussed at the suggestion Billy and Patsy had shared more than apathy towards one another.

"Like what?" She asked and Patsy fidgeted awkwardly under her disbelieving frown.

"Just a few final thoughts." She answered evasively and Delias frown deepened as she looked over again at Billys family. Charlie was talking to a serious looking old man in uniform and Billys mother was clasping the hand of the priest from the service. 

"Right,' the moment stretched into uncomfortable silence as they both stood side by side unable to decide what to say to one another. Patsy looked thinner in the face, maybe a bit pale in the twilight. Delia wondered if she'd been drinking. A glance down showed Patsys hands shook.

The sea roared as though shouting at them. Delia took a half step away feeling as though lead weights had been added to her shoes. 'Well... I think I'm going to go Pats." Patsy followed her movements, chewing her lip before reaching to take Delias hand convulsively. Her palms felt clammy.

"I have a room in the town." 

Delia pressed her tongue against her teeth feeling ice spread through her chest. Patsy was looking at her hopefully. The invitation was just that... inviting. Delia wanted to fall into oblivion with this woman.

"Do you?' Delia couldn't quite fight down the anger behind the words. Tempting as the implied offer was she couldn't do it to herself. So, she was good enough to fuck just not good enough for Patsy to pick up the phone and talk to? "That's nice, means you don't have to drive tonight. Good planning." Patsys head tilted as Delias eyes fell back to her feet. Delia couldn't guess if she was surprised by the rebuff.

"I was wondering if you wanted to... go for a drink maybe." Patsy pressed on and Delia shook her head slowly chewing her cheek.

"That's not a good idea Pats. I'm going to go." Patsy hadn't yet released her arm and Delia felt almost too weak to pull away.

"I've got to speak to the family for a minute. We don't have to get a drink but I want to talk to you, will you wait for me?" Delia looked up again, unable to stem the hope where it bubbled through iron gates of restraint in her head. Will you wait for me?

Delia nodded her head hesitantly, tapping the ground with the toe of her shoe and Patsy, apparently satisfied, released her hand, leaving Delias side to eat up the space between them and Billys mother. Delia watched the interaction with curiosity and an inability to decide if she should remain where she was or not; still unable to see why Billy would share something with Patsy. 

Glumly, she wondered if she had ever understood anything as it had really been at the outpost. Patsy was busy wrapping the old womans hands between her own, her expression open and sincere and perhaps it was this visage alone, the single sight of Patsys face, that made Delia decide to walk away. The hind brain kicked in and told her to let it go; you could only take so much punch before you were drunk on your own fist after all.

It had all been lies. Patsy had never been sincere like that with Delia. She'd been played good and proper and no matter what she felt, Delia knew what the outcome of waiting for Patsy was.

It wasn't sunshine and fucking giggles by any stretch of the imagination.

She got halfway to the car park before heavy footfalls crashed through the silence. Delia felt frustrated at her immediate impulse to stop walking as Patsy broke into view. Her hair was a mess from running, her cheeks flushed as she made a sort of pathetic lunge and twirled Delia around so that there faces were inches apart.

"You... said you'd... wait." She accused between gasps and Delia shrugged out of the weak grip to turn back and keep walking.

Walk away. Walk away from her. It'll hurt either way but make the right choice. For once be strong about this.

Patsy gave a grunt as she straightened from the half bent shape she'd creased into and shuffled to follow as Delia tutted and tried to break away.

"Don't go. I thought we could talk. I want-" Delia twirled for a second time, on her own speed now so Patsy half stumbled; all righteous anger and frustration.

"What! What exactly did you think Patience? Did you honestly think; Delias so easy, get her drunk and she's yours for the night." A muscle twitched in Patsys jaw as she breathed deeply, her eyes boring holes into Delias face. 

"No, no that's not- Look, I thought you'd like that I was talking! I didn't plan on anything else Delia... I miss you.' Patsy raked her fingers through her hair exasperated and Delia thrummed with cynicism.

"You missed me? But you waited until we had a communal funeral to attend to make a move. Smooth Patience, really fucking smooth." Patsy actually stamped her foot, her face a mess of frustration.

"It isn't like that! I'm not that much of a bitch Delia. I just want to talk to you." Delia snorted disbelieving and crossed her arms.

"Nope, I agree, you're the special game playing type of bitch who messes with peoples heads until you get bored of them and then you walk away from it. You're that kind of bitch."

"That's not fair." Said Patsy through gritted teeth and Delia laughed.

"Oh, am I supposed to feel bad for saying how it is? You could have called, you could have said something before now but not Patience Mount. No. That would be too normal, too well fucking adjusted, no you wait until my friends funeral to try your luck. I've got a room my eye." Patsy looked on furiously as Delia rocked on her feet clenching her fist.

"Well... that's still better than waiting for a fucking war to break out before calling to let me know you were alive Delia!"

They both glared at the other. Hate and love warring in faces until - 

"I'm so fucking sick of this!" 

Patsy surged forward, groaning the expletive under her breath as she crowded into Delias space, her head swooping down for a punishing kiss. Delias brain short circuited as hands so much thought about cradled her face firmly. 

Delia kissed back. Couldn't stop herself. Didn't. Want. To. 

She wanted this. Wanted Patsy hands to carve their way to her bones. Wanted it to be this simple. Just kisses and unspoken promises... But tomorrow was still on its way and nothing had changed really.

Delia pushed Patsys chest and felt the distance as they seperated again like a cut. Patsys face was stormy and recklessly lit from inside and Delia shut her eyes to try and drown it out.

"I can't do this." 

Patsy was trying to step forward again, trying to force the inevitable but Delia wouldn't let her any closer, her resolve hanging dangerously by a thread.

"What, because of the others? Don't worry, everyone else looked set for a while, you don't have to be scared." Patsy choked, her hands somehow finding their way back to Delias bum.

"Scared...' Delia said perplexed, heart beating so fast everyone on the cliff edge should hear it. 'Scared about the others?' Delia shook her head experimentally before making a snap decision, resolve finally bursting its shackles. 'Patsy, I don't care about the others, I care about you; about us." Delia stared into Patsys eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. It was time to be honest, it was bound to happen at some stage. 

'I'm in love with you Patience Elizabeth Mount,' Delia said the name slowly, letting the revelation settle in her gut. 'I've been in love with you from the moment I saw you at nurse training, I loved you every day we were together and all the years we were apart. I love you just as much now as I did then; maybe even more, it's hard to judge and no-one else has ever, ever been able to hold my heart like you. 

It's always been you Pats, every day. Probably always will be, I don't believe there's anyone else out there who could mean the same as you mean to me. I don't even want to find out if I'm right, I just want you...' Delia gave a useless shrug in defeat. 'I love you and I can't play this game anymore, I can't do no strings because there's a million strings and they're all so tangled up together I can't pick them apart. I love you so much it hurts to look at you sometimes Patience, you make my eyes hurt." 

Patsy was gaping, her features frozen as she stared at Delia in apparent shock at the unexpected declaration.

"Delia" She whispered hoarsely with some tightly bottled emotion. She stepped closer and Delia shivered.

"Don't, please don't touch me Pats." Delias warning sounded broken even to her own ears as she took in Patsys hand hovering in the air between them, paused from its course to grasp Delias cheek. Delia cleared her throat, 'I know it's not fair to say all of this now... it's not like it was any more, but it's just; the thing is, the real truth of the thing, is that if you touch me I'll let you.' Delia gave a watery chuckle at the pathetic truth of it all knowing she was hemorrhaging truth but unable to stop. 'I'll let you touch me, I'll let you kiss me. Hell, I'll let you fuck me one more time and God knows I'll enjoy it. But the whole time,' Delia felt her voice thickening as grief choked her, 'the whole time I'll be dying a little bit inside because it's not enough. 

Because, because- Patience I want you to touch me like that for the rest of my life. I want to still be kissing you like that when I'm a hundred or dead; whichever one comes first and I don't want to stop or lie anymore. I love you so fucking much Pats and it's killing me. Every time you touch me I'm giving you another peice of my heart and I want you to have it. You can have it all; you already do really... but you don't want it. This is just fun to you.' Patsy gulped, sorrow carving grooves in her cheeks. Delia could feel her body shaking as adrenaline forced fight or flight.

'So please, please don't touch me if you don't love me the same way because after all of this ends and we go back to our ordinary lives I've got to go on knowing you don't feel the way I do and I've got to figure out how not to just fall apart knowing that and all the time' Delia was sobbing now, full on ugly crying. It was humiliating and Patsy was staring at her as though she'd never seen her before. 'All the time all I'll ever really want is for you to turn up and touch me again. Jesus,' she scrubbed at her eyes wanting the stupid tears to go away. ' I'm such an idiot! I never learn and I'm a mess standing in front of you and I don't know what to say anymore. I just... can't." Delia pressed her fingertips into her eye sockets painfully, not wanting to see the look of pity or revulsion on Patsys face right now.

"Deels...' Patsy sounded faintly petrified that Delia might start crying further, 'What can I say?" Delia rocked on her heels, a well of fury starting up from within as she snapped her eyes open and gestured wildly with her hands in the small space between them holding back the urge to shake the red head hard.

"Anything! Say anything Pats; tell me I'm insane, tell me I'm a crazy bunny boiler or tell me you're in love with me too. Say something though because you'll never get another opportunity to be this honest with me. I mean it Patsy; I can't do this with you anymore. I'm dying over here! For Gods sake woman, for once in your life be a bloody verb! Either say it back or fuck off out of my life."

Patsy stepped back, her mouth opening and closing stupidly but she didn't speak, it was as though she'd been struck dumb by the level of anger rolling out from Delia. Delia tapped her foot impatiently for a moment giving a final few seconds worth of chance before sighing.

"I'm going to go." She said through gritted teeth and Patsy flinched again as though struck but still didn't speak. 

Didn't reach to stop her again either as Delia turned back to the car park. Patsy remained where she was; maybe she was in shock. 

Delia got to her car through sheer dint of will alone. The door slammed loudly in the silence and she sagged limply into her seat but the heaviness in her limbs could not be explained through exertion or fatigue alone. She felt oddly undone, her chest a hollow thing she'd wrenched open. Her heart was still beating so fast and yet she felt disconnected to it. It was as though she'd left a body part on the dirt track. She'd left it at Patsys feet; a wretched and unwelcome gift.

Wiping her eyes roughly she put the car into gear and backed away scattering lumps of broken tarmac under her wheels. Through the rear view mirror she caught a glimpse of red hair waving in the wind and Patsys wooden expression before she drove away.

The drive home was a long drawn out sort of agony. She cried a little bit but for the most part struggled to fully develop the energy for a real sobbing fest. She dumped the black dress onto the floor as soon as she got through the door of her little flat, threw the car keys into a bowl and crawled into bed.

The package her dad had given her was still perched on her bed where she'd left it and she kicked it off with a toe impatiently as she wound her leg around the duvet. Wincing, she heard something shatter as the box opened and collided with the floor.

Rolling her eyes in frustration Delia crawled to the edge and looked down to assess the damage. Grumbling, Delia reached down to pull off the dented cardboard. An ugly green vase half broken was revealed. Why her mother had thought she would want it was beyond her but clearly her mam had taken care to try and prevent the now incurred damage by padding out the edges with a cheap t-shirt. Delia tugged it free to check for cracks and felt her arm slacken as she took in the details. Not of the vase, an ugly thing that would need super glue before her mother saw it, but the t-shirt.

It was the t-shirt Patsy had bought her years ago. Westlife is life was emblazoned on the front and Delia looked down at it hopelessly feeling a lump in her throat.

Forgetting the vase and the mess she would have to clear up tomorrow Delia shook out the sharp fragments and returned to her fetal position on the mattress, her fingers rubbing the soft fabric as she finally let herself cry.

Delia wished so badly things had been different. She wished her dad had been right... she wished, she wished so many things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flaming Nora, I've only got one chapter left *fist bump*
> 
> Incidentally, the Mr and Mrs Busby bar fight/stealing of bike story is actually pinched in parts from my parents rather complex courtship. Although, to be fair to them, the storm drain my mum fell down was twelve foot deep during a hurricane in Hong Kong and it took three Chinese fireman to get her out with a succession of long sticks. My dads never ridden a bike since.
> 
> Hope we're all hanging in there. Bloody Patsy Mount man!
> 
> SB


	30. And greater wars; when each proud fighter brags he wars on Death, for lives, not men, but flags

Patsy sat in muted light. The windows were shut, curtains pulled. TV on. Good morning blaring out.

Someone was ringing in to say their son wasn't the same anymore. Paced all night, punched his way through half the doors in his parents house. Drank too much, said too little.

Some shrink was explaining how PTSD worked. A politician spoke on interlink about the woeful services available for the ensuing crisis in mental health services in the country.

Patsy stared sightlessly at the ceiling completely ignoring it. She needed to get up, get dressed, move around a little, eat something. She needed to get on with things because she sure as hell wasn't doing the right thing gluing her arse to the seam of this sofa.

Something buzzed against her thigh like an irritating fly. She glanced down to see another missed call from Trixie flash up from her phone. Another ranting voicemail would probably follow. Trixies voice magnified in her ear telling her she was being stupid. Telling her to try and talk to Delia; to apologise.

Patsy returned to the ceiling, the flash of the television making staining light blue and gold.

She should apologise to Delia. Trixie was absolutely right and Patsy would have done it if she thought it would help... Delia deserved so many apologies from her.

She'd really messed this up.

Again.

Patsy squeezed her eyes shut trying to fight the waves of utter frustration at herself. 

Idiot. Fucking idiot.

She'd tried. She'd planned. She'd waited to say the right words. She'd gone to Billys funeral certain she could apologise. Certain she knew how to fix this and Delia... Delia was perfect as usual.

She said the things Patsy had meant to say only better... and Patsy said nothing.

Her phone buzzed again and Patsy slapped a hand against it hard so that it buzzed even more angrily against palm and leg.

She'd had all these reasons and propositions and promises she'd practised in her head. And then when the time had come, when the perfect moment had finally become apparent- God, Delia practically handed the timings to her and she'd frozen like an idiot.

Delia deserved more than apologies, she deserved someone who wasn't so stupid, so idiotic. She deserved the best and Patsy wasn't it. 

Patsy bit her lip, banging her head against the sofa back.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Why couldn't she be less awkward? Delia had said she loved her. She'd said exactly what Patsy had been waiting for, she'd shown her hand, she'd been painfully honest and Patsy should have shouted back. Should have told her that she loved her too. That's what happens in love stories for fucks sake!

So why hadn't she? Shock, wonder, a little bit of sheer terror. She'd been so taken aback to hear her own lines, the lines she'd been practising for weeks, coming out of someone elses mouth. Funny really, no matter how many times she'd pictured finding Delia again somehow she had always been the brave one in her head. Patsy had been the one to make the sweeping declarations. But Delia had beat her to it. She'd always been better at this sort of thing. Always the smart one.

Patsy was an idiot.

She'd come home next day a complete mess. She'd called Trixie because best friends were supposed to be on your side. They were supposed to be comforting.

Instead of a shoulder to cry on she'd been chewed out all over again and promptly ordered to go and find Delia and "stop being a total arse Patience!"

That had been two weeks ago. Trixie hadn't let up and Patsy could only remember being this crippled by disgust with her own behaviour once before. Delia had been the reason for that too...

Her phone buzzed a third time and Patsy didn't immediately recognise the unsaved contact. For a second her heart seemed to decide it needed a new home and blocked her throat.

Delia. It could be Delia. Maybe-

Her hope died as she recognised the number.

Not Delia.

Not anymore.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Patsy beat her fist against the phone again in blind anger. She didn't want to talk to Phyllis! 

She didn't want to talk to anyone, she wanted Delia. She wanted to stop this, she wanted to go and find her, she wanted to say everything, anything. She'd planned to say everything that night, she planned, she'd planned to be brave and-

Fists banged hard against her door, a muffled voice sounded through the wood. Trixie, Barbara or Phyllis. Didn't matter who it was really, Patsy had no intention of talking to anyone. Not when she could barely cope with herself at the minute.

The fists beat louder and louder, the voice tried to shout at her but wasn't strong enough for that. Patsy turned up good morning to drown it out. Her phone buzzed again but she didn't bother to look down. It wasn't who she wanted. 

She propped up her legs on the coffee table. Her clumsy feet pushed empty bottles onto the floor.

She needed to watch that. She didn't want to be Faith remade.

The door... opened? The soft snick of locks sliding could be heard in the sudden silence as the voice stopped its noise.

Patsy straightened up, suddenly tense as soft footsteps padded down her hallway. 

"Who is it?" Patsy called trying not to sound afraid. No one had a key to her place.

"It is Nurse Crane Nurse Mount, do not trouble yourself to get up. You haven't thus far after all." 

Phyllis stepped into the room daintily. Her sensible rain coat done up, a pair of driving gloves enclosing her hands, a car key dangling from one finger while the other hand reached to tuck two small pins back in her hair. 

Patsy frowned at the movement as understanding flared.

"You picked my lock?" Patsy asked incredulously from her lower position on the sofa. Phyllis, completely at ease and characteristicly brisk shook off her sensible coat and placed it onto a chair back before speaking, her voice sardonic.

"Thieves pick locks nurse Mount. I merely saw an obstacle and disregarded it. I did attempt the more traditional methods of communication first but it seems that nothing so simple can pierce through that stubborn streak of yours." Phyllis stood above her as stern as any soldier and ten times more fearsome. Hundreds of years ago she'd have led armies into battle with that face and tone alone. 

"How did you even know-" She began feebly but Phyllis raised a hand.

"Nurse Franklin reached out to me when she felt you had gone too far. It seems that she suspected my brand of care would be more effective than hers." Phyllis's eyebrows pulled together and carved the dark lines between her eyes even deeper. Patsy felt an invisible hole seem to open in front of her. 

Trixie was getting a lump of coal for Christmas this year.

"Your brand of care? What does that mean?" She asked faintly.

Phyllis pulled off her driving gloves primly and placed them onto the messy tabletop. The leather made a faint slapping sound on the glass as Phyllis shook out her curly hair and fixed Patsy in a very old sort of look.

"Well... I'm afraid it means you're about to get some tough love kid."

Patsy didn't even have time to formulate a response as Phyllis reached forward, much faster than she looked and two fingers found the lobe of Patsys ear. With the faintest twitch of the older womans wrist Patsy was dragged to half standing.

"First the essentials; shower. You smell as though somethings died in here. I shall open the windows. Fresh air always helps along difficult conversations. Then you'll need to dress up nicely, you'll want to look your best."

Patsy had somehow allowed her body to be steered towards the bathroom, the stern northerner following straight backed a step behind.

"Look my- why, where am I going?" But Patsy thought she already knew. If Trixie had sent Phyllis then she'd truly reached the end of her tether. She'd sent the big gun in. 

They were in the corridor now. The door to the bathroom swung open at Phyllis's touch and Patsy was released as soon as she'd been pushed through the threshold. Phyllis, still disarmingly business like, turned to rifle in the pile of towels in an alcove beside the door.

"Phyllis you cannot-" Patsy tried again but Phyllis shook her head sharply.

"I shan't bandy words Patience. Have a shower and then we will see what we can see." Patsy bristled at the womans presumption.

"Phyllis, you cannot break into my flat and make me have a shower. That's... I'm not a child. You don't have any right-"

But any more protestations were muffled as a towel was thrown unceremoniously at Patsy. It hit her fully in her face and then tumbled down to droop undignified around her shoulders like a ridiculously oversized shawl.

"Then act like an adult lass.' Came Phyllis's firm voice. 'Go and get washed there's a good kid." 

Patsy made to open her mouth again but the door was shut firmly on her before she could manage it and Patsy was left standing rather foolishly mouth opening and closing in silent temper.

Patsy glared at the door, ripping the towel off her shoulders angrily and throwing it to the floor so that it piled forlornly at her feet.

Humiliation heated her skin.

She wasn't going to have it. She didn't have to take this. She was a bloody grown woman and Phyllis was not her mother. Patsy would jolly well go out there right this minute and tell Phyllis... Tell her... Well, what she'd say would be... 

Nothing moved in the bathroom for a few moments as Patsy stared at the door, red faced and stubborn.

Then, slowly, she sagged and reached to pick up the discarded towel and lay it on the toilet seat with a sigh.

Reluctantly and with much muttering Patsy got in the shower.

In the living room Phyllis stood by the open window staring outwards; her face set in weary contemplation.

She had her work cut out for certain, they were both as stubborn as each other in this and goodness knew Phyllis Crane was not one to push her opinions where they weren't wanted but after the phone call she'd received from Nurse Franklin she felt obliged to step in to save them from their own stupidity.

The sound of the shower cut off abruptly and clambering feet were distantly discernable against a bath mat. Phyllis pursed her lips.

She reckoned it would only take an hour or two to sort out Patience. The girl wore her ghosts like shields but unlike the rest Phyllis had been present to many exorcisms in her life. The rest would be left for Patsy to sort it out between her and Delia.

For both their sakes Phyllis hoped she was doing the right thing.

\---

It was a Tuesday and it was raining.

Bloody May and it was tipping it down outside. The window in her bedroom pittered a messy drum beat as Delia snuggled down in bed.

It was only half seven, hardly even evening but with the weather and the long day at her parents house she'd come in, showered and decided to live vicariously through a good book.

An old book as well, dog eared and broken backed and decidedly Not a book for the book case. Her mum called this sort of thing mucky reading.

Delia drew the covers more firmly around her legs and stuck the ipod on the dock. Easy listening and a cuppa.

Her nan would be proud.

Trixie would probably throw a shoe at her.

Delia tried to forget about both women as she flicked to one of her favourite scenes in the book.

The soldier turned shepherdess because... fiction? Anyway, was tending to her sheep in a suitably quiet field when the local healer- who as it goes nursed said soldier back to health, happened to be passing by on some never-referenced-because-no-one-read-this-for-facts alluring task. The soldier who was all full of dark passionate looks and stormy eye sex was brooding over sheep and a local baroness who was clearly evil because she wore black leather and rode a black horse.

It was trashy chick lit at its finest and definitely worth another read in a world that seemed to be suddenly full of unavailable and attractive women.

Lacey had rang her the week after Billys funeral to say she'd started seeing a physio. Delia hadn't much minded and had even rang up to say congratulations. The new girl was Irish apparently.

Patsy had been predictably absent. 

She was trying not to think too hard about that...

Trying not to think about her phone and its silence. Tried not to think about how much it enraged her when she thought about that fact too.

Four weeks!

Not that she was bothered though. Nope, let Patsy run off and have fun in London then. Good luck to all who sailed in her quite frankly said she. Not bothered in the slightest about the fact that her phone had been restarted about a hundred times because she'd deluded herself into thinking it might be a 'signal problem'. Or the fact that she'd written at least three messages in her drafts that, of course, she was never going to send. And, yes, maybe one of them atleast might be akin to a bafta acceptance speech just in case Patsy had sent her a message. 

Which she hadn't.

Not that Delia cared though. She was perfectly fine in Wales thanks. Patsy was none of her business, hardly even crossed her mind now. She barely even noticed the boiling anger now...

Honest your honour.

Delia settled down more comfortably in bed, cracked the spine and squinted down at the words.

The soldier was sitting-

Bang, bang, bang! 

Delia sat up abruptly, the little bit of her that was always afraid now of noises she couldn't identify immediately quivered. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and prickled.

Bang, bang...bang!

... Delia knew that knock.

Delia stumbled to her feet; a suspicion building as she walked towards the noise.

As she peered through her bedroom door she saw the shadow of a hand beat against the frosted glass circle. 

Could be anyone. Could be a charity cold calling, a travelling salesman, someone broken down needing a wee.

It wouldn't be though.

A kernel of inevitability crunched into her stomach. Knocked the wind a little, maybe made her step more silently as she drew closer. She'd been waiting for this... Maybe waiting wasn't the right word for it, hoping would be more fitting really.

Could be wrong though.

Slowly Delia flicked the key and pulled the door forward. Just a little.

Just a peek...The chain rattled loudly as Delia pulled the door open a fraction further. 

It was Her.

She was there. 

She was really there.

Looking a little bit pathetic drenched to the bone it had to be said, hair dishevelled and frizzed; leaning against the door frame and peering through the gap at Delia wearing an expression that was a mix of apology and hope. Delia bit her lip as her eyes raked the soaked figure.

"Hi." 

Hi? Delia sucked at her cheek, feeling something powerful and hard to define building in her chest at the innocent greeting. She folded her arms and picked at a stray thread come loose at her elbow.

"Hello Patience. Are you lost?" 

"Erm...' Patsy floundered, blowing wet hair away from her face as she leaned harder against the wall, 'I was actually. Borrowed Phyllis's car, took the wrong road off the toll; got completely lost, found two coasts before I got here and then realised that the postcode was written down wrong... Did you know there are eleven 'high streets' in Pembrokeshire? I think the police stopped tailing me after number six." She smiled beseechingly, clearly under the mistaken impression Delia might soften at the joke. Delia merely raised an eyebrow at the rather garbled barrage of facile information; remembering faintly that Patsy had always been rubbish at geography.

Patsy was looking expectant. Historically Delia was always the one to take up the baton of reconciliation when Patsy offered an inch. Delia crossed her arms and staunchly did not do so; she'd said all she had to say to this woman already. This was Patsys show not Delias.

"Can I come in?" Patsy asked eventually, wiping more strands of wet hair from her face when it became clear Delia was not going to oblige in her unofficial role of un ambassador on this occasion. Delia felt a surge of restless energy start up as she stared at this impossible woman impassively. 

The word MISTAKE was flashing in her mind in bright red 10 foot high letters. Delia shook her head slowly.

"No. No, I don't think so Pats." Delia said seriously, trying to keep her voice calm.

"Delia... I'm freezing out here, let me in." Patsy implored feebly.

"Then you should have worn a coat!" Delia snapped back. It'd been chucking it down all day, Patsy was not going to guilt her because she couldn't plan her travels better.

"Delia, please let me in, I'm soaked. I've been looking around for you for hours." Patsy whispered her eyes very wide, Delia felt herself involuntarily quake inside and bit down harder on her lip trying to temper the sensation watching Patsy shift from foot to foot anxiously. Delia had been waiting for six years.

"I don't want to see you." She whispered eventually, her voice wobbling traitorously and Patsy sagged like a punctured balloon.

"Please... Delia I need to tell you something important. It's not something I can do over your doorstep." Delia grit her teeth, not yielding. She'd had four weeks of fuck all, she didn't particularly feel Patsy was in a position to demand any more of her time.

"Just say it Patsy; get on with it." Patsy eyed Delia up and down, gulping, her face hardening at Delias attitude.

"Well- All I wanted was to tell you that I love you." Delia rolled her eyes.

"I already know that Patsy. Good night." Delia tried to slam the door shut but Patsy had managed to wedge her foot into the door frame. Their eyes met; Patsy stubborn and Delia nervous.

"Let. Me. In." Patsy ordered in a low voice, her hand flat on the door pushing it back open, her face crowding in further and Delia teetered on the edge of reason. Patsy was staring at her with a boldness that Delia hadn't seen in her before...

Oh hell.

Making a snap judgement she'd probably hate herself for in the morning Delia slammed the door again, managing to kick Patsys foot rather hard out of the way before pulling off the chain with clumsy fingers.

This was a bad idea. This was an absolutely terrible idea. This was bad. This was so so bad.

Opening it again Patsy was revealed in full, appearing more than a little relieved to not be left standing on the welcome mat ignored as had briefly seemed possible. Her jeans had obviously started out blue but they were stained a deep blue with rain now, they clung tightly to her legs. Delia averted her faze pointedly.

"You can come in to warm up for a bit.' Delia felt oddly stiff as she turned on her heel. 'Don't want you to collapse in the car going home; half an hour and then you can leave. I mean it Pats, half an hour that's it." Delia warned coldly, already walking away and abandoning Patsy to cross the threshold on her own. The clunk of the door closing sounded very loud from the little hallway as Patsy followed her slowly; head turning to look about her curiously.

Wanting a little more time to compose herself Delia paced into the kitchen as Patsy entered the living room and glanced around the spaces contents with interest.

"I'm making tea, sit down before you fall down." Delia muttered over her shoulder as she entered her tiny galley kitchen; pulling a tray from a recess below the sink and slamming it onto the counter with unnecessary force.

"Nice place you've got here; very you. I always used to imagine you living somewhere bright and colourful... I um, like the throws." Patsy complimented airily from the direction of the sofa. There came the rustle as the aforementioned throws were pushed to the side so that Patsy could do as she was told and perch on the seat.

Delia did not bother to reply, flicking the kettle switch so the light switched on and the ancient heater within began to rattle the metal. Her brain felt like it was exploding, so many questions were filling her she was surprised her whole body wasn't buzzing like an overworked computer.

What the hell did this mean? Patsy coming here was new; unexpected to say the least after almost a month of silence. God. Delia rubbed her face making the skin turn pink, she had no idea what she was doing right now. She could hear Patsy shifting about from the couch. This had to be one of her biggest errors in judgement of recent times.

"I should have brought some cakes or something if we're having tea." Patsy said hesitantly from her place on the sofa and Delia chuckled darkly as she placed two mismatched mugs onto the tray and lifted a spoon from a drawer.

"No, you really shouldn't have. I'd probably have thrown them at you by now if you had." Patsy laughed from the safety of a walls distance and Delia grinned grimly. She wasn't exactly joking. 

Delia distracted herself from a full blown bout of hyperventilation by entering into contemplation over whether she should put a few biscuits on a plate for the tea but was torn. Biscuits were a bit too friendly, she compromised by upturning the bottom of the barrel onto the side. Stale biscuits and crumbs were never pleasant; it would serve Patsy right. 

Shit, what the fuck was she going to do? Patsy was here, in Delias Patsy free home. Did this mean she wanted to start something again? Another fuck buddy proposition? Delia clenched her fist and bumped it softly on the handle of her kitchen drawer, her chest icy. She wouldn't accept it, she deserved more dammit. She couldn't do that again. But then again... she didn't know if she could do this right here either though. 

Patsy said she loved her. Bold as brass.

Delia knew that already. Patsy had said it before to her... but Patsy hadn't said it since the outpost. Last time she'd said it Delia had thought that that was it. They'd finally sorted everything out and then Patsy had dumped her. She said she loved her...

Shit. Piss. Fuck. 

Delia drummed her fingers on the counter trying not to break down. Maybe that wasn't why she was here at all, surely there were more easily accessible people for that sort of thing in London if that's all Patsy wanted. Maybe she really was here to declare her undying love? Maybe this was it? 

But if that was the case why had Delia heard nothing for four solid weeks? Why hadn't Patsy got into contact? Why? Why? Why was it never bloody easy or simple with them?

The kettle flickered dead as it came to a boil. Delia stared at it sightlessly; not at all ready to meet Patsy head on or deal with any more rejection.

"Everything okay in there?" Patsy asked nervously. She'd be twiddling those stupid fingers right now Delia knew. She shook her head despite the fact that it was impossible Patsy would see it.

"No, it's fine, I don't need any help." 

"You sure." Patsy offered cajolingly and Delia rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"It's just tea Pats." Delia snapped irritably to hide her confusion. Was it though? Was it 'just tea?' Fuck! Delia had no idea what she was doing.

Rushing just for something to do now Delia bunged a tea bag in each mug and splashed milk into both before pouring the water into the cups. It spilled onto the sides because she'd poured it too quickly and she had to jerk her fingers back to stop a burn.

She clinked the spoon around the surface a few times for the look of the thing and scooped out the used bags; dropping them haphazardly on the work surface where they splodged out little puddles of dark liquid around them onto the worktops. Delia didn't really care now although she knew her mother would comment if it left a stain visible for her next visit. Lifting the tray she aimed the spoon at the sink and lobbed it; missed. The stupid thing tinkled on the floor. Delia just couldn't get anything right at the minute could she?

Walking quickly to the living room Delia deposited the tea on the coffee table in front of Patsy who was indeed finger twiddling. She straightened from her slight stoop as Delia entered; she'd been interrupted leaning over the armrest perusing Delias photographs balanced at the edge of the bookcase shelves.

Delia stepped back slowly, refusing to let Patsy out of her sight, as though she was scared she might do something dangerous if she did and slumped into the arm chair opposite watching her guest owlishly with tightly folded arms. Patsy made a show of picking up the mug and sipping genteely in the rather ugly silence. Her eyes flicked to Delia and a pink tongue poked out to lick dry lips.

"You make a good cup of tea Deels." Delia blinked at her, unswayed by the weak attempt at civility.

"It's weak. You hate weak tea." She said evenly and Patsy looked down at her drink appearing to take in the milky colour for the first time.

"Tastes like you made it though." She said quietly and Delia sighed, leaning back in her chair feeling like a wound spring poised to go off. Patsy put the cup back on the table.

It went clink as the ceramic touched the wood.

They stared at one another for a moment and Delia was reminded irresistibly of a western. Both of them waiting for the first gunshot.

Delia went first; old habits and all that. She plucked a question from the pile burning in her head.

"How did you get my address? I didn't give it to you." She accused. Patsy gulped. Twiddle twitch went the fingers.

"I've actually had it for a little while, I pinched it from Phyllis's filo fax one day when she wasn't looking." Patsy stammered apologetically. Delia frowned.

"How long ago?" Patsy wilted, clearly not wanting Delia to ask anymore about the subject.

"I think it was a few months after you left London." Patsy had clearly aimed for casual but ruined the effect by stuttering slightly. Delia lent back in her chair, arms slackening somewhat as she took in the unexpected answer.

The honest answer.

"Sooo... six years give or take then?" Asked Delia distantly. Twiddle twiddle.

"Yeah, about that probably." Patsy answered shame faced. Delia stared at her, taken aback before shaking her head. Defeated.

"Patsy... why are you here?"

The question seemed to break the tension. Or maybe it just let them both relax somewhat into it. Patsy rubbed her palms together, leaning on her knees for a moment before getting to her feet suddenly. Delia followed the movement jerkily as though Patsy was a bomb of some sort about to go off in her living room.

"I have been a complete arse Delia. I've been a- a cad of epic proportion. I've hurt you over and over again. I behaved like a... a' She faltered as she tried to search out a word that described her faults adequately. Delia, who had spent a fair amount of time thinking about this in detail, rallied to help.

"A Peter pan complex riddled woman-child hybrid with the emotional range of a tampon... after use." She supplied emotionlessly and Patsy chuckled wetly, her eyes shining.

"Yes. Exactly that. I let you down. I pushed you away. I told you I didn't want a future; even if I never said it I implied it again and again... Delia I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I wasn't good or brave enough.' Patsy paused as she pivoted on one foot and began to pace around the furniture, wiping the stringy damp hair that had fallen again away.

'When we got back to Debrecen I got scared. I thought I'd lost you. I'd watched Billy die in front of me and it made me think about everything we'd been through. Everything that went before us. You scare me Delia. You scare me more than a camp full of Russians. I'm so in love with you but loving you terrifies me... So I did what I always do when I get scared, I ran away and I am so sorry... I'm sorry I didn't just give in and tell you that you're everything I think about. I'm sorry I didn't tell you that I love you too, I love you so much. Delia- I want to be an old lady in a care home shouting at you because I'm deaf and you're too dementia'd and can't remember how to speak English anymore.

I'm sorry I didn't tell you that you're the first thing I think about in the morning. I'm so sorry because you're all I want and I let you go and I've regretted it ever since and I don't just mean Hungary; I mean all of it, every bit of it. The morning you left Wales I died because the bit that makes me me went with you. I was too proud to apologise or to take it back. I was a coward." Patsy was still pacing back and forth agitated as she rushed to fill every available breath with words...

And what words Delia mused dazedly. What pretty words they were. What Delia would've given to hear them before now... 

Patsy was dropping to her knees in front of her, eyes wild, gripping Delias legs tightly. Ernest and sweet and dangerous. Delia watched her blue eyes darken as they met hers.

Always butterflies.

"I love you Delia. You are my whole... everything, you're my guts, my heart, my head, you're the person I was made to love and I do Delia.' Patsy punctuated this sentence with a hard squeeze on Delias thighs, her voice desperate. 'I love you more than air, more than anything. I'm so sorry I didn't say it enough. I should have, I should have told you when you walked into me at Pirbright. I should have said it every day between then and now and I didn't and I know I've hurt you but I won't do it again.' She paused to take a jagged breath before laughing darkly.

"I was going to tell you all of this after the funeral, I had it all planned out, I wanted to tell you... but I messed that up too and you were telling me everything I wanted to hear and I didn't know how to tell you I'm the same. I didn't know the right words. Delia... I promise you; anything, anything you want, anything that happens doesn't matter. I won't mess up like that if you take me back." 

Delia couldn't stop looking at Patsy. At this complicated, irrational, infuriating woman who was sitting in her living room practically begging for a second chance. Or was it third chance, fourth? How many chances did Delia have in her to give? It would be so easy...

But what comes up must come down and Patsy changed her mind on the spin of a coin. Delia loved her. She wanted it to be true, to believe the dramatic U-turn but could she? 

Patsys hand had crept up to grasp Delias waist. The clever fingers were already pushing up her pajama t-shirt, her warm hand groping Delias skin as she pressed her face into Delias thigh, whispering her apologies, her sweet words into the fabric of Delias pajama bottoms.

God. Delia had missed her, she missed this. Them. It was so easy to believe that this could be their ending. That everything could be this simple. 

Patsy sat up on her haunches, pulling Delia in. Delia could feel the words brushing against her skin through the thin bottoms.

"Sorry... Love you... I've missed you... Sorry." Patsys hand was reaching higher, enclosing her aching breasts and Delia couldn't stop herself arching into the touch. It would be easy to let this be enough... but the image of Patsys face in Debrecen flashed behind her eyes. The rejection and the pain stung bone deep.

No.

It was too much.

Delia pushed her back more firmly into her chair and Patsy was forced to disengage and steady herself on the arm of the settee, her eyes dark, chest working overtime.

"You said you wanted to talk." Delia said tightly, wanting nothing more than to snatch the moment back, to give in to Patsy all over again but unable to trust this rather unexpected turnabout.

"Y-yes.. I did." Patsy whispered haltingly and Delias heart fluttered at the confusion in her lovers eyes.

"Then talk Patsy. Don't touch me." Patsy gulped and Delia knew the rebuff was hard for her to deal with.

Welcome to the club.

Patsy was staring at her wide eyed, her mouth twitching as she tried to formulate words.

"I... I've spent the past few weeks sitting in a dark room watching reruns of spring watch just to listen to a Welsh accent. Every brunette makes me feel sick because I think it's you."

"But you dumped me. You told me you loved me and and you shut down on me. I told you I wanted you and you said nothing Pats. I know you say you've sorted it out in your head but what's changed really? What's to stop you deciding I'm too hard for you? Whats-" Delia broke off. She couldn't do this, Patsy was too much. This whole situation was bizarre and unexpected and she wasn't prepared to hurt this much.

Delia hid her face in her hands, not wanting Patsy to see her break down again. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't this be easy, why? 

Patsy was back on her haunches, wrapping Delia in her arms, pulling her off the sofa to sit half in her lap on the floor and Delia let her. Not strong enough to push her away again.

"I won't leave again. I'm done running from this... You said you wanted forever and I want that too Delia. I want all of it. I'm tired of waking up without you. I haven't slept properly since I had you next to me and I'm so sick of being in the way of our happiness.' Gently, Patsy peeled Delias fingers away from her face. 'I love you Delia Ann Busby. Just you. Always. It's always been you sweetheart; right from the start. You are the definition of the word game-changer." 

Delia felt like her heart was going to explode. Heart or head. Heart or head.

"You can't just say you love me and expect everything to be alright Pats. Life doesn't work like that, you can't turn up here and sweep me off my feet and make me forget that I'm disposable to you." Delia couldn't stop her voice shaking, couldn't stop the stupid tears from blurring Patsys stricken face.

"You're not!' Patsy brought her face close so they were inches apart and Delia could smell her toothpaste. She felt cold inside as the menthol hit her skin but Patsy was still talking in a rush. 'I wanted to take it back when I said it. I shouldn't have let it happen. I just didn't know what to do to fix it but I wanted to. I want you Delia I'm just sorry I'm such a fuck up. I won't make that mistake again. I won't, I'm done screwing this up."

Delia couldn't stop looking at her. Their chests were pressed together so tightly Delia couldn't work out if it was her heart or Patsys beating against her ribs.

"You could decide to leave Patsy. You could change your mind again."

"I won't." Delia sagged, shaking her head sadly at the disconcerting certainty in Patsys voice.

"How can I believe that? There's nothing to prove you're telling me the truth. You've got so much baggage Pats and I'm getting too old for your shit."

"Marry me."

Delias head actually snapped back in shock as she tried to make sense of the words that had fallen out of Patsys mouth.

Patsy was breathing hard, her fingers busy winding strands of Delias hair behind her ear as though she hadn't just said something completely ridiculous. Delia coughed and tried to wriggle away but Patsy was too quick. At the first movement her arms were back around Delia. Not letting her go for once.

"Marry me Delia. I'm serious. I think we've done the courtship thing to death. I'm ready to settle down. I wasn't going to do it until you'd said you wanted to try again but what's the point in waiting? I'm fucking sick of waiting for it to be the right time for us. So I'm making it the right time. Marry me." 

Delia was speechless as Patsy lifted her slightly off her lap while still keeping one arm restraining Delias knee to fumble for something in her pocket. 

Jesus Christ she actually brought a ring with her!

The little bag was velvet and dusty as it was slid from Patsys back pocket... How long had she been holding on to this?

"Faith,' Patsy answered Delias unspoken question with a grunt, flopping back down as she lay the bag on Delias lap reverently. 'It was our mothers. Faith took it with her when she dissappeared as a teenager. I thought it was long gone; that she'd sold it for drugs or whatever but she gave it to me when she came back. Told me to give it to you when the government sorted themselves out and made it legal. I told you she liked you. I kept it... Just in case you turned up again. Go on; open it."

Delia stared at Patsy. She couldn't take her eyes off her. What the hell had happened to her commitmentphobic soldier? This was a bit much even for a Delia nose deep in a fantasy book.

"You know... 50% of marriages end in divorce." She said eventually and Patsy grinned, her teeth very white against her bloodless lips. She shrugged.

She fucking shrugged?

"We've done dead family, trial seperations, a war zone and stupidity."

"On your part." Delia qualified and Patsy nodded sagely.

"Yep. I think we've got enough back story that our kids can believe the course of love never runs smooth when we tell them how we got together."

"Kids?" Delia asked half strangled. Patsy smiled more widely.

"Yeah, I think we should have two.' She sighed reflectively. 'I'm going to have to learn Welsh aren't I?" Delia realised she hadn't blinked recently and did so, the eyes glazing over almost painfully. She felt a stab of fear that this was all an over indulgent dream and Patsy would dissapear if Delia lost sight of her.

"You're insane." She couldn't prevent the rather strained laugh even as fat tears fell down her cheek and made them sticky. Why was it Delia always ended up crying? Patsy just kissed her cheek gently before staring intently at her.

"I love you. I don't want to play games any more. Come on; marry me, it'll never be dull." Delia laughed feebly letting her eyes creep back to the bag. It felt heavy on her leg. Patsy caught her thinking and picked it up again to press it into Delias hand forcefully .

"Open it. It's for you yes or no, I'm not marrying anyone else." 

Slowly, fingers thick and sweating, Delia pulled apart the drawstring bag and tipped its contents out onto her other hand. Something small and gold fell out onto the outstretched palm. There were diamonds on the band she noted. The gold made a smooth O shape. It must be her imagination but it seemed to sparkle faintly in the dim lighting. Delia looked down at it her heart in her mouth.

"Pats... we don't even live in the same country." Patsy gave a great sigh and closed Delias hand around the ring with her own.

"Then I'll sell my place and move here. Or you sell and move back to London or we both sell and buy a shack on the sea and open a flower shop. I don't care how we do it but I want to do it Delia. I can stay here until we sort it out between us what we do. The Londons still a wreck anyway and I've got my wages from the war to see me through. That's not a problem. In fact, the only problem would be if you say no... so, what do you say?" Delia glared, a muscle twitching in her cheek as she peered at Patience Mount, thinking furiously.

"If you change your mind again...' Delia began, steel certainty hanging on every word. 'I'm going to run you over in the car. Not mine, I'll rent a jeep for the task so I know it really messes you up." Patsy was grinning ear to ear and Delia pressed on smiling herself. 'I'm not doing the bins. Ever. The kitchens my place, I get veto rights on decoration stuff and I want a garden."

Patsy nodded semi seriously and placed their foreheads together so their noses touched at the tips.

"So this is a yes, right?"She asked wonderingly and Delia laughed pushing Patsy so hard they toppled onto the floor, Delia on top.

"Yes. You absolute tool, yes, I'll marry you." Could it really have been any other answer? Patsy wrapped her arms around her so gently Delia paused to look up and saw that she was crying.

"I really didn't know if you would say yes... Phyllis was right. I'm my worst enemy." Delia blinked, making a mental note to ask about that little nugget later on and watched as Patsy opened her hand long enough to tug away the ring and slide it onto her fourth finger. It felt strangely heavy and they both watched as she extended her fingers out.

"It fits." Patsy said quietly and Delia nodded solemnly.

They always had fit together after all.

The moment was shattered as Patsy pressed her mouth to Delias; for once so confident Delia couldn't breathe. It didn't feel new, it didn't feel unexpected, it felt like coming home after a long storm. Patsy had always been home.

Delia let Patsy pull up her top almost impatiently, raised her arms to let the restricting fabric be discarded carelessly somewhere away from them. Content to feel the cool air on her skin, unable to stop the thrum of feelings in her belly as soft hands seemed intent to touch every peice of skin in reach. Delia couldn't stop reaching out herself to touch the long back, the familiar scars and dips. The feeling of them just together as Patsys lips left her mouth to search for more territory was almost visceral. Delia wanted more, hands dropping to fumble with Patsys belt clumsily. Distracted as she was she mistugged and Patsy hissed as skin was pinched.

Hurriedly Patsy pulled away and sat to kneeling, pulling at the restraining metal, eyes fixed on Delias chest, her mouth set tight in concentration. Delia propped herself up on an elbow.

"Pats?' Patsys eyes flickered from Delias chest to her face, 'not that I'm complaining... but do you think we should wait. My nan always said Busby women wait." Patsys hands fell to the floor as the belt finally came undone, staring in apparent disbelief at Delia, her mouth actually hanging open. Delia fought to keep her expression smooth.

"You're joking" Patsy said eventually, relief colouring her voice and Delia smirked.

"Pretty much." Patsy grinned almost ferally as she undid her jeans and pushed them down her hips firmly revealing black lace pants to the world and Delias scrutiny.

"Good thing really, I was just trying to think where the nearest port was; I'd have to bribe a sea captain to sort me out." Delia laughed at the image and sat up to stop Patsy from reaching for her again.

"I thought you'd given that up in the end."

"Had to. Made me cough." Grumbled Patsy trying to free her hands but Delia tightened her grip.

"Let's go to bed." Patsy huffed and lent to press open kisses onto Delias neck.

"No, too far away. Here." She mumbled, her hands still trying to escape Delias restraining ones.

"Patience! We fought a war so that we could sleep safely in our beds at night; I'm not doing this on my floor.' She squeezed Patsys hands tightly, 'get your butt up and get in my bed woman." Patsy seemed to relax a little as Delia released her hands and the two of them got to their feet slowly, hampered by the inability to let the other go again.

They got to the door to the hall before Patsy pressed her suit again and Delia felt the hardness of the wall against her back as Patsy hoiked her arms under Delias thighs to lift Delia up. Delia almost gave up on the whole bedroom concept as Patsy attacked her neck again but the idea had sort of taken root and she gave in only momentarily before dropping her weight and pulling Patsy through the hallway and into her bedroom.

Belatedly she realised that the bed was unmade, her book was still propped on the pillow open and the dock still wafted suddenly unwanted Celine dion. Delia finally let go of Patsy in time to slam her hand onto the pause button but she could sense Patsy amusement as she demurely stepped into bed, her hand automatically stretching out to pull the book closer.

By the time Delia had dropped her bottoms and jumped onto the bed Patsy was thumbing through the pages of Delias book her brows raised.

"I like it for the historical references." Delia volunteered, laying beside the warm line of Patsys side and resting her head on an available shoulder. Patsy snorted as she rifled to a page with a dog eared corner. Her eyes scanned lightning fast and Delia hid her blushes pressing her lips to Patsys shoulder.

"Delia Busby are you telling me I interrupted you in the process of-"

"You interrupted me reading a book." Delia over rode feeling shy and Patsy smirked.

"I turned up just in time then.' Delia rolled her eyes as Patsy continued reading, occasionally turning a page, her lips twitching. 'Who knew sheep counting took so long." Delia laughed, managing to snag away the book and dump it unceremoniously onto the floor, pushing to sit atop the red head.

"Many many hours Patsy. Many many sheep." Patsy shook her head and reached out to touch Delias lips with her finger tips.

"Delia Busby you never cease to surprise me." Delia smiled and kissed the finger.

"You're not doing too badly on the surprise front yourself Patience Mount." Patsys hands were creeping lower, the blankets somewhere at the bottom of the bed. 

"Delia?" Delia looked up from her leering appreciation of Patsys bare torso.

"Yeah?" Patsy was watching her softly and Delia smiled.

"This is really It this time isn't it?" Patsy asked gently and Delia bit her lip, drinking in the feeling of warmth emanating from the woman beneath her and nodded slowly.

"Think so. Think this is sort of a forever moment Pats." Patsy grinned all teeth and pulled Delia down for a kiss.

"Forever?' Paused as she said the word, her eyes overly bright as she ran her hands down Delias hips. 'About time really."

"Mmm"

They didn't talk again for some time. 

Outside, the sky turned a blood red as the sun blinked and began its daily ascent to greet the world.

Forever came round only once people said; love, fate and its cronies struck crooked deals with the hearts of humans. And, of course, all of this is true, but sometimes... 

Sometimes, forever just needs a bloody long run up.

Fin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin
> 
> Drop the God damn mic people it's over! No more angst. Patsy finally pulled it out the bag.
> 
> This chapter has caused me untold hours of stress and probably future carpal tunnel from all the bloody tapping away and rewriting. Originally Pats was going to recreate the ending scene to officer and a gentleman but after re writing it a million times I swapped it for this... Hope that's alright peeps, the other one was a bag of crap.
> 
> Ahem, oscar/bafta speech;
> 
> I'd like to thank my mother for squeezing me out all those years ago even though she missed her lunch. 
> 
> My Mrs for not bludgeoning me to death when I was writing and she wanted to watch tele with me. 
> 
> And finally but sort of top of the list in reality I'd like to thank you massive bunch of fitties for reviewing and being so lovely and supportive of this whole fic... Even the lurkers who don't post comments but I know exist because... Hits and hope man.
> 
> Special thanks go out to Sharon, Messi jessie jumps, patsymount, tlpursuit, Michelle, lapizsilkwood, gwalia, funkyplanner, callthepupcake, echo7, anormalgeek, solasban, dihl and imagine the two. You guys rock!
> 
> And The scribbler who is an absolute brick and a genuinely awesome human being! 
> 
> Going to have a wee break to finish a quilt off I've neglected since this story and then I'm torn. Either a western au because I really see Trixie as one of those clever women with guns in their garters or a poplar primary school type thing. Leaning more to the school idea but I'm going to need some info and stuff... #fluttersnonexistenteyelashes, Scribbs?
> 
> Started this because I had a week off and thought I'd have a go at writing again. Finished it because it's just been so much fun.
> 
> See you lot soon!
> 
> Superbanana  
> Xx
> 
> Ps; I'll do an epilogue in the next few weeks.


	31. Epilogue- Five years later.

Creak. Creak. Creak.

Delia paced the floor of her and Patsys London semi. The squeak of the polished floorboards was the only noise besides the churning cogs in her head. 

She couldn't even bite her nails anymore, she'd lost them on the second stick... 

Without thinking she paused to stare at the ticking clock on the brightly polished mantelpiece. 

Half eight. 

Long enough for Pats to get the tube. She'd be home any minute and Delia could barely hold back the tears as she strode to the coffee table and fluffed pensively at the detailed arrangement laid out upon it. 

Flowers, card and beneath the tea towel was... but was it overkill? Delia hovered indecisively, unsure how to do this and what to say. Patsy wasn't known for her ability to cope with surprises all that well...

Delia glanced around at her brightly lit home, the colourful blends of her and Patsy. The more classical tones mixed with Delias preferred eclectic touches. Their perfect home... all about to change. 

Biting her lip and smoothing down her dress- maybe she should have just stayed in jeans? But she wanted to make it special after all- Delia sucked at her cheek. Excitement curled in her belly like a lit firework; expectation and fear warring for supremacy. 

Ridiculous. She knew she was being silly. They weren't love sick idiots now and it wasn't as though Patsy had no idea... 

Sucking in deep breaths Delia sat back down and tried to fold her hands together. The digits fidgeted like Patsys did when the red head was nervous. The habit was starting to rub off on Delia she realised in faint amusement. The gold of her wedding ring flashed merrily up at her and caught her eye. A lot had happened in the last five years. 

Delia had been only half believing that Patsy had meant what she had said in her flat the next morning when reality had rushed in with Patsy holding her so tightly it seemed they couldn't be parted again. Delia had tried to pull away slightly, tried to protect herself in some way but Patsy, spurred on to surprise everyone, was as good as her words. She'd repeated everything to Delia with a dangerously stubborn set to her face. They'd talked most of the morning; planning and promising and then, finally, they'd gone back to bed. Delia hadn't been able to believe it all, her questions had been answered by Patsy; determined to prove how serious she was. The world had disappeared as Patsy pressed desperate kisses to her face, her throat, her fingers, her hips and then-

Eileen Busby had been much less impressed than Delia when she stormed into the flat after repeated failed phone calls. Finding her daughter and erstwhile ex in bed and otherwise occupied had been hilarious and mortifying for all parties in equal measures.

Patsy still talked about it now whenever anyone showed any interest. The scene had ended in Eileen storming out speaking in such rapid Welsh even Delia had had to concentrate to catch all of it. Patsy, still wearing Delias too short dressing gown, had asked her for a translation and when Delia had declined, blushing, Patsy had bought herself an English to Welsh guide book. 

After a long perusal she'd bought a steel helmet and worn it purposefully every time they drove to Delias parents house from then on. 

The wedding had been more fun. Patsy had almost been late, which might have been embarrassing, had the story not been so colourful. Trixie, as best woman, had taken Patsy on an unadvisable bar crawl that ended in Patsy being handcuffed to a lamp post with the key in a strippers thong several miles away. The situation had resolved eventually by Phyllis driving from London to Pembrokeshire with lock picking equipment followed swiftly by a police escort to the registry office. 

Delia had only stopped laughing when they'd started reciting their vows. 

They'd moved to London. Delia had missed being so close to her friends and post war there were so many people who needed care. The capitals hospital staff had been dented to unprecedented lows; most had signed up after the London had been bombed. Some had come back but those that had.... sometimes, not enough of them had come back with them. The London in particular had been desperate for all hands and it had seemed somehow right for them both to return to where it all began for them. 

Pembrokeshire had been far less needy. Her parents visited every few months now and the steel helmet still hung up in the coat cupboard. It wasn't needed though. It had taken a while but Patsy and Eileen had come to a wordless agreement that they would tolerate each other for the sake of Delia. 

Delia wondered if their bond would grow more with this new development... probably not she decided ruefully; but Phyllis would help. Patsy and Phyllis had grown quite close on their return to London. Patsy didn't talk much about it but Delia knew they both owed the stalwart northerner a fair deal. Perhaps she could take a special role in the new situation. Delia smiled into her chest as the sound of a key scrabbling in the lock floated through the door. 

Her wife was home finally. 

Moments later there was the swish of wood on the welcome mat and Patsys voice drifting along the corridor as hat and coat were placed carefully on the coat hook. Delia smiled as her wife's head popped through the door. 

"Hey." Patsys eyes were soft, tired, but at peace as she took in Delia sitting on the sofa waiting for her. 

"Hello." Delia said warmly, feeling the worries fall away as Patsy wandered in; stifling a yawn and plonked herself down beside her wife. A warm hand reached out instinctively and held Delias, an ever wandering thumb rubbed at Delias knuckles idly. 

"How are you feeling? You stopped being sick? The tablets worked?" Patsy asked gently as she tucked her arm around Delias and pulled her in for a rather tired cuddle. 

Delia allowed the movement and rested her face against the cold buttons of Patsys uniform. Patsy smelled of antiseptic and perfume and home. Delia closed her eyes and squeezed them tightly. 

"Yes and no.' She answered quietly feeling Patsys finger raking through her hair as they slouched together. Opening her eyes she looked down at the table still waiting for their attention. 'How was work?" 

"Busy,' Patsy said with feeling as she kissed the top of Delias head. 'Cold and flu break outs everywhere and of course people just don't have the common sense to go to their GP. Nasty accident on the M1 too. Air ambulance brought in a man who'd come off his motorbike. He made it through with just a few broken ribs somehow but that's not the real news. I think Trixies in love; he's absolutely gorgeous. Nearly slipped over her drool as she watched him from the nurses station. Reckon she'll ask him if he wants a bed bath sooner than later, although, I can't blame her if she does." 

"So I've got competition then?" Delia asked amused, reaching up to bring one of Patsys hands to her waist. Patsy laughed but as she was trying to stifle yet another yawn it came out oddly. 

"Hmm, well he was a looker and he asked for my number when I did his stats- don't tell Trixie she'll go mad, but I told him I was married to an absolute dragon who would threaten to disembowel him if he went any further." 

"True." Delia agreed contentedly laying more comfortably into Patsys chest. 

"What did you do today then? Just potter about?" Patsy asked curiously. She'd just spotted the coffee table too if Delia was any judge. Delia smiled slyly. 

"Not much; bit of this, bit of that... I bought you something." 

"Oh?' Patsy sounded more curious now and the hand running through Delias hair slowed as Patsys brain went into overdrive. She must have some idea, they'd both been there after all.

Hands shaking slightly, Delia propped herself back up to sit freely and waved at the display. 

"Have a look." The bubbling nerves returned as Patsy, fighting back a nervous grin of her own, cast her wife a suspicious look and bent to move the tea towel. 

"Not that one!' Delia said, her knee bobbing up and down as her feet twitched. 'Read the card first." 

Smiling more brightly now, Patsy acquiesced and reached for the vanilla envelope. Delia watched closely, biting her lip, as Patsy opened the card painfully slowly, teasing the paper from the folds and then reading the front of the card. There wasn't much to give away the reason on it; just a watercolour display. Patsy opened it after a quick glance at Delia who nodded encouragingly at her. 

Patsy read the card. 

Once. Twice. Three times, her face looking blank and shocked with each reading. Then, her hands shaking as much as Delias, she reached towards the tea towel. 

She pulled it away. 

A plastic stick with two parallel lines greeted them, nestled on a towel. Beside it was a tiny baby grow. 

Patsy stared at it, then at the card in her hand, then at Delia and then at the tray again. For the space of half a minute neither of them spoke, Delia thought she could hear her heartbeat in her ears and then, with a great whoop Patsy stood up abruptly and almost over turned the coffee table in her haste. 

"You're having my baby!" Jubilation shone from Patsys face as she half jumped in the air.

Delia could feel her eyes burning. Patsy was doing a sort of half jig on the spot and then paused, sitting down so quickly it looked like an invisible hand had struck her. 

"We're having a baby." She repeated again, her voice more awed as she stared at Delia. Delia nodded slowly, her face cracking into a wide smile. 

"I peed on a lot of sticks." Delia said heavily.

"And then you put them on our best towels... I'll never be happier than when I sterilise them." Patsy replied her voice laughing and shocked. 

Delia hesitated and then reached to pick up the baby grow. It was cheap, something she'd seen in the shop. There was a lot of them about these days; lots of ex service men and women were doing this sort of thing. It said 'mummies soldier'. Delia shrugged self consciously. 

"This seemed appropriate but I'm telling you now; they're not joining up for anything. I'll sit on them first... so, you're happy?" The question slipped out tremulously. Delia felt foolish asking; Patsy was her girl. Always would be but that didn't mean she'd ever truly stop questioning how they managed to muddle through everything.

Patsys eyes softened and she reached to cup Delias cheek before kissing her. Thoroughly. 

Always butterflies. 

"It took me a while but we got there eventually. Happiness doesn't quite fit it Deels.' Patsy said eventually when they resurfaced and then, grinning wickedly, she scooted down to press her face against Delias flat stomach. She stared at it for a moment before stage whispering in the general direction of Delias belly button, 'and you now, in there, you hear me? You stay nice and cosy growing ears and things-" 

"Ears?" Delia asked laughing tugging at Patsys own ears. Patsys breath tickled and she squirmed slightly as Patsys elbow rested heavily on her thigh but Patsy went on in the same loud whisper.

"Ears.' She confirmed seriously, 'because we've got so much to tell you. How aeroplanes stay up and how you can tell left from right-"

"And how we met?" Delia asked gently, thinking of her own parents. Her mam was going to have kittens when she found out. Grandchildren would go a million miles to making her happier about her daughters marriage although the encouragement to return to Pembrokeshire was going to be insufferable. 

"Ahh, that's a long story.' Patsy said happily, twisting to lay across Delias lap. 'You're Welsh mum tells it best though; I reckon it's the accent." 

Delia grinned and ran a finger tip down Patsys nose. 

"I reckon it's because your other mum doesn't want to admit what she was doing for the time apart actually." Delia was gratified to see Patsy blush slightly and raised her eyebrows. 

"The accent story is the one I'm sticking to nurse.' She said meekly as she tried to flutter her eyelashes. Delia snorted as the effort fell short; from this angle Patsy looked more like she was having some kind of seizure. 'Besides; I like your version- go on, give me the clip notes effort." 

Delia shrugged and started unbuttoning Patsys collar. Her neck was cold; she'd forgotten her scarf today. Patsys eyes closed at the contact lazily. Content. 

Delia looked down at her wife and felt her heart swell. They had a new adventure to get to. Together. Always. 

"Well...' Delia cleared her throat as she stroked the dip of Patsys collar bone, 'Where to begin?' She took a deep breath and cast her mind back to a chilly evening in front of her television set. Slowly, she started; at the beginning, or as close as she could.

'It seemed that a kind of spell had fallen over the vast Islands of Great Britain..."

Patsy sighed and closed her eyes. 

Everything was well.

Fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little nod to the happily ever alluded to. Apologies for the shortness of this. I almost wrote the wedding day and then something set fifty years on with Patsy dead and Delia telling their grandkids about how they met. This was where I ended up. 
> 
> I had to stop in the end just because the urge to write a sequel was hard to quell. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. It's been a blast. 
> 
> SB x


End file.
